


Espérer

by 73stargazer



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/73stargazer/pseuds/73stargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirror AU. When two universes collide, Picard’s hope is renewed; However, it forces all to make difficult decisions along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Part 1

 

Doctor Beverly Crusher is absolutely bone tired as she drags herself through her office, barely able to keep her heavy eyes open. It had been an exhausting day running staff, equipment and supplies down to the colony on Ashaawah II, and Beverly had docked the last shuttle in the shuttle bay and wandered back to Sickbay to deposit her med-kit and reports before packing it in for the night. Lowering herself into the chair behind her desk, Beverly groans audibly, her legs aching from running around for three days solid. She abandons her med-kit on the floor and practically drops her PADD on the desk, barely looking at her desk. Closing her eyes, she palms her face wearily. Very rarely does her work get her this fatigued, but pulling double shifts three days in a row is exhausting, and designed for staff much younger than her.

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

“Sir…”Deanna Troi skips to catch up to the captain and First Officer as they race down the corridor.

“I’m just repeating what Lieutenant Reed told me, sir,” Riker states directly, in step with Picard as Picard charges down the hall toward Sickbay. “She docked a shuttle in the main shuttle bay a few moments ago and said she was going to Sickbay to check on everything.”

Lips set in a tight line, Picard’s eyes flash, almost angry. “It’s not her, Will,” barks Picard. “It’s impossible.”

Bowing his head, Riker follows Picard through Sickbay, nodding an apologetic smile at the nurse that Picard nearly knocks over as they weave through the room. “I know, sir.”

 

Running to keep up with the men, Troi huffs. “Captain, please. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

“Yes,” Picard shouts, rounding the corner to the Chief Medical Officer’s office. “And, I intend to find out.”

Riker and Troi come to stand behind Picard as he pauses in the doorway, frozen, staring at the woman seated behind the desk.

Speechless, Picard’s face falls, his eyes surely deceiving him. A few feet away is the living, breathing image of his recently deceased wife. 

 

* *

PAGE BREAK

* *  
At the sound of footsteps around her doorway, Crusher glances up from the computer screen, somewhat surprised to find the captain, First Officer and Counselor piled around her office. Smiling groggily, Beverly leans back in her chair. 

Riker glances to the motionless captain before casting Troi a questioning look, wondering how to react. Troi moves to lay a hand on the captain’s elbow, her expression turning compassionate and concerned. 

“Hey. What can I do for you?” Crusher asks quietly, brushing her bangs from her forehead. 

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Picard motions to speak, but his throat is dry and his hands are clammy and he cannot move.

Blinking rapidly in bemusement, Beverly chuckles lightly. “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Eyes widening, Jean-Luc instantly pales, becoming light-headed.

“Captain…” Deanna begins, clutching his arm at the elbow. 

“Doctor,” Riker looks to Crusher, a mixture of confusion and apprehension. “When did you…get here?”

Furrowing her brows, Beverly leans forward,eying Riker suspiciously. “Uh, maybe ten minutes ago? I just docked the last shuttle.”

“Was there anyone with you?” Riker inquires.

Shaking her head, Beverly looks at Riker in bewilderment. “No. I was the last one of our team left on Ashaawah II. We’ll go back in the morning with more supplies. Why?”

“Because, you’re not supposed to be here,” Picard murmurs, clearing his dry throat. “You’re dead.”

Eyes dilating, Crusher’s mouth falls agape.

Glancing between the stunned captain fighting to keep control and the clearly alarmed doctor, Troi intervenes. “What the captain means is, you passed away, about six months ago.”

“No,” growls Jean-Luc to Troi, before whipping his head back to look at Crusher. “You were murdered. Five months, twenty-five days and sixteen hours ago.”

Thoroughly shocked, Beverly tries to stifle her gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth. 

 

* * *  
PAGE BREAK

 

“No, we’re still orbiting Ashaawa II. There’s a medical relief effort underway, and our doctors Selar and Martin are assisting the local authorities,” Riker explains from his spot on a chair in Troi’s quarters. 

Shaking her head, Crusher cannot put the pieces together as she sits next to Troi on the sofa in Troi’s quarters, attempting in vain to make sense of this development. “I’ve been working with the authorities on Ashaawa II for three days. I’ve been coordinating our relief effort. I returned tonight as I did the past two nights. I don’t understand.”

Running his tongue over his lips, Riker puts a hand on his knee. “Captain, I’m going to ask Geordi and Data to check the shuttle, check our sensor logs and records. See if we can find any anomalies that might explain this.”

“Yes, Number One,” Picard nods curtly, his head bowed. 

Riker jumps out of his seat, turning to Crusher. “We will get to the bottom of this.”

Frowning, Beverly can only sigh. “I don’t know what ‘this’ is. But, thanks, Will.”

Riker excuses himself, leaving Troi and Crusher on the sofa and Picard seated uncomfortably in the arm chair.

“I don’t understand,” admits Crusher, turning to Picard. “You said I…or this other Beverly Crusher, was murdered. What happened?” 

Troi looks between the two, holding her breath as Picard seems to be considering how to answer the question.

Inhaling a ragged breath, Picard averts his eyes, lacing his hands together. “We were preparing a planet’s entry into the Federation. We weren’t aware at the time, but a small radicalized faction in the community greatly opposed the planet’s admission. To demonstrate their point, they kidnapped Federation prisoners and publicly murdered them.You…Beverly, was a victim.”

Blinking rapidly, Beverly attempts to hide her shock and disgust. “I see. Well, uh, where I came from, we never engaged in such a mission.”

Swallowing hard, Picard’s eyes roam over her from head to toe, slowly appraising her. “ Yes. I can see that.”

 

As an uncomfortable silence falls between them, Deanna reaches for Beverly’s hand. “We will get to the bottom of this. Will, Data, Geordi, they’ll work to find out what happened and come up with a solution.”

Letting out a long breath, Beverly smiles gratefully at Deanna. “Yeah. In the mean time, what do I do?”

 

Plastering on a smile, Deanna squeezes her hand. “Just, stay here. Try to get some rest. You look tired. Get something to eat. I’ve got to step out for a minute, but I won’t be long, alright?”

Bobbing her head, Beverly smiles graciously. “Thanks, Deanna.”

Rising out of his seat, Picard tugs on his uniform jacket. “I’ll assist Riker and the others. Hopefully we can discover how you ended up here.”

Nodding to Picard, Beverly draws in another deep breath. 

“If you need anything, let me know,” instructs Picard cordially, turning on his heels. 

Beverly watches him disappear quickly into the corridor, without even casting a look back.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

 

All Beverly wants to do is soak under a hot shower and crawl into bed. After spending days on end on her feet, and now discovering she had somehow ended up on the wrong ship in the wrong life, Beverly’s head is pounding and her mind is racing. Absently fingering the passcode on the door to her cabin, Beverly sighs in relief when the cabin door hisses open, welcoming her home. 

Deanna had suggested Beverly stay in Deanna’s cabin, stating that Deanna would return shortly. Exhausted and now homesick, Beverly only wanted to find her quarters and fall into bed. She had briefly wondered if she still had assigned quarters, after her counterpart in this universe had died. However, a quick consult of the computer had revealed that she did, indeed, have quarters on Deck 8. Beverly had set off down the corridor to her new cabin, making a mental note to tell Deanna where she was once she got in. 

Stopping in her tracks, Beverly surveys the scene, registering everything in front of her. This is not like her quarters in her universe. This cabin is larger, different, the layout is all wrong. Glancing over to the living area, Beverly’s eyes dilate when she discovers a small pile of colourful plastic building blocks gathered around the sofa. Padding over to the sofa, Beverly’s eyes widen, curious and surprised. She finds a plush black horse on the sofa cushions, apparently left behind by a small child. Shaking her head, Beverly is bemused, wondering if the computer sent her to the incorrect cabin. She wonders to herself how the passcode functioned on the door. 

Taking stock of the scene, Beverly’s eyes land on a holo photo on the end table beside the sofa. Gasping, Beverly is shocked when four smiling faces shine back at her. She can’t immediately make-out the background, but it’s a countryside of greenery, and in the photo the captain is seated on the earthy ground next to Wesley. Covering her mouth, Beverly has to blink repeatedly, stunned at the image before her. Nestled in front of Picard on the ground in front of him is Beverly, a strawberry-blonde toddler in her lap. Picard has an arm draped around Beverly’s shoulder, and Beverly has both arms wrapped around a red-headed, blue-eyed girl, no more than two years-old. 

 

“Mama!” The high-pitched squeal startles Beverly, and she jumps before her hand falls over her heart.

“Mama!” The tiny toddler, the same one as in the holo photo, comes barrelling across the room toward Beverly, and Beverly’s heart races.

Shocked, Beverly is practically paralyzed as the small girl leaps toward her, reaching for her legs. Heart aching, Beverly’s hand drops to the girl’s head of strawberry-blonde locks as the toddler squeezes Beverly’s legs.

“Mama!” the girl giggles, hugging Beverly soundly.

Sinking to the floor on her knees, Beverly runs a hand on top of the toddler’s head, her face plagued in a mask of grief, sympathy and overwhelming recognition. She just doesn’t even know how to respond. “Are you…” Swallowing the lump in her throat, Beverly fights through tears. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Burying her head in Beverly’s chest, the girl pouts. “Tummy hurts, Mama.”

Inhaling a shaky breath, Beverly cradles head, nodding. Trying to regain her composure, Beverly exhales steadily. “Okay, honey. We’ll get you something to make your tummy all better.” 

Beverly slowly rises to her feet, taking the girl’s tiny hand in hers. “Come on, sweetie. Back to bed.”

“Where Papa?” the little girl asks quietly as Beverly guides her across the living area, to the back where Beverly can only assume the girl’s bedroom is, based on where she had come from.

Head spinning, Beverly frowns. “He’s uh…working.”

When they enter the girl’s bedroom, Beverly discovers it modestly decorated and tidy, a small toddler bed with pink blankets in the centre. She has to shake her head, wondering if she’s been caught in some kind of dream. This isn’t at all like her life. Her world. 

The child climbs back into the bed, and Beverly helps tucks her between the blankets. Smoothing the red locks from her forehead, Beverly smiles gently. “I’ve got to find my magical med-kit. I know we’ll have that tummy settled in no time.”

Smiling, the girl reaches up, toying with Beverly’s hair. “Mama, you came home.”

Face falling, Beverly can feel her chest restricting. This tiny girl, probably two and a half years-old, had lost her mother six months ago. Now, this girl, no more than a baby, thinks that her mother has returned to her after a long period away. 

“Papa!” the small toddler disengages her hold on Beverly’s hair, grinning broadly. 

Startled out of her reverie, Beverly whips around to find Picard and Deanna in the entrance to the bedroom.

“I’m so…” begins Beverly.

 

“Beverly, I….” Picard commences.

Deanna glances between Picard and Crusher, fumbling for words, her face awash with sympathy. Plastering on a smile, she steps forward, turning to the toddler in her bed. “Everything okay, sweetie?”

Nodding, the small girl clutches for Beverly, almost fearful that Deanna would intervene and snatch Beverly from her. “My tummy hurt.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Beverly murmurs, looking to Picard. “She was out of her bed. She said her stomach was sore. I was going to find a med-kit and investigate.”

His face set in stone, Picard nods firmly. “I’ll retrieve it for you. There’s one…packed away.”

Bobbing her head, Beverly silently acquiesces as the little girl clings to her. 

***PAGE BREAK ***

 

Beverly brushes back the hair from the girl’s face and appraises her condition visually. After administering a small dose of a drug to settle the child’s stomach, the little girl had quickly improved, growing groggy and content. “All better. Just close your eyes and get some sleep, sweetie.”

Shaking her head, the little girl lifts her head from her pillow. “No. Wanna play with you, Mama.”

Perched on the side of the bed next to Beverly, Picard shakes his head. “No, Felisa. Bed time. Doctor’s orders. Now, close those beautiful little eyes. Good night, cherie. Je t’aime.”

Struggling to keep her eyes open, Felisa turns to Beverly, clutching a plush cat in her arm. “Mama, don’t go.”

Blinking back hot tears pooling in her eyes, Beverly is speechless, unable to vocalize a response.

“Bed time, cherie,” Jean-Luc repeats, leaning over to kiss her crown. “You can see her tomorrow.”

Forcing a watery smile, Beverly nods. Struggling to hold back tears, she squeezes the girl’s hand on top of the blankets affectionately. “Good night, Felisa.”

Yawning, Felisa turns her head and settles into her pillow, her eyes fluttering closed.

Putting a hand on Beverly’s shoulder, Jean-Luc motions for Beverly to follow him out of the room. Following his lead, Beverly traces his path to the living area, where Deanna is sitting in an arm chair.

“I’m sorry,” stutters Beverly, as they cross the room to the living area. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I…I asked the computer for the location of my quarters.”

Exhaling audibly, Picard waves her off, heading for the sofa. “Thank you for tending to Felisa.”

Beverly perches beside Picard on the sofa, her eyes darting to the holo photo. Pointing to the image, she glances between Picard and Deanna. “In your world, you and…my counterpart were married? Felisa is your daughter.”

Bewildered, Picard leans back into the sofa cushions. “ In your universe, you’re not married?”

Shaking her head gently, Beverly bows her head. 

As the realization dawns on him, Picard sighs heavily. If this Beverly and his counterpart aren’t together, that would mean Felisa wouldn’t even exist in this Beverly’s world. “Well, I apologize. This must be a bit…strange for you.”

“Not nearly as strange as it is for you all,” Beverly surmises, thinking how awful it must be for the toddler to have lost her mother, and then to suddenly see her again for the first time in six months.

Stoic, Picard turns to Deanna. “Felisa is so happy to see her mother again.”

Frowning, Deanna nods, sympathetic, but guarded. “She doesn’t understand, sir.”

“What can we do?” Picard asks Deanna, seeking any kind of input, so confused, slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing.

“Let’s just take this one day at a time,” suggests Deanna positively. “We don’t entirely know what’s going on. Will, Data and Geordi are going to see what we can do rectify this situation. Let’s play it by ear.”

 

Deanna glances between Picard and Crusher, both appearing weary, stressed, emotional. “Beverly, you’re welcomed to stay with me. We can also find you guest quarters. But, I recommend you both get some rest. We can revisit this in the morning.” 

Calm, quiet, Picard turns to Beverly, swallowing a lump in his throat. “You may…stay here, if you wish.”

“Where’s Wesley?” Beverly inquires hesitantly, needing to know how her son, or rather, her counterpart’s son, fits into this whole family unit.

Somewhat taken aback, Picard stares at her incredulously. “He’s asleep. It’s nearly eleven-thirty.”

“He’s here?” Beverly clarifies, a small smile forming in the corner of her lips.

“Yes,” shrugs Picard.

Exhaling lightly, Beverly bobs her head. “You’re Wesley’s…stepfather?”

Shaking his head gently, Picard’s lips curl into a warm smile. “No. I’m Wesley’s father. I adopted Wesley.”

Entirely warmed by his sentiment toward her son-her counterpart’s son-Beverly grins. “Maybe, maybe I’ll stay.”


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

 

“Mama!” 

Groaning, Beverly rouses abruptly, a tiny set of hands shaking her shoulder.

“Mama, up!” Felisa shakes Beverly’s shoulder, grinning down at her as she climbs over her waist.

Disoriented, Beverly bolts upright, startled by the unfamiliar tiny body crawling into her lap. 

“Up, Mama!” Felisa giggles, wrapping her arms snuggly around Beverly’s waist. “Bwekfast!”

Recognition sinking in, Beverly blinks the sleep from her eyes. “Oh.Yes! Yes, sweetie.” Inhaling sharply, Beverly glances around the room, recalling the events of last night. Jean-Luc had insisted that she take his room, adamant that he would sleep on the sofa in the living room. He had left little room for debate, and Beverly had been too mentally and physically wiped to argue with him. Jean-Luc had given her one of his late wife’s (her, it’s disconcerting to think in those terms) nightgowns to change into, and Beverly had collapsed onto the bed, utterly bushed. 

 

“Come, Mama!” pleads Felisa, tugging at Beverly’s nightgown.

“Okay, honey,” smiles Beverly wearily, silently wondering how she’s going to manage this day. She helps Felisa off the bed and meanders into the closet , searching out a robe to throw over her nightgown. 

“Just a minute, sweetie,” requests Beverly, as Felisa wanders over to the entrance. 

Surveying the contents of the closet, Beverly is dumbfounded, surprised to find an entire section of her (no, not her, her) clothes hanging on the rack. There’s dresses, blouses and pants, and several uniforms still hanging as if they’re ready to be pulled out and worn any time. Taking a step closer, Beverly’s eyes narrow. “What?” On closer examination, she notices that some of the uniforms aren’t her (dammit, her) uniforms at all, but a larger maternity-style uniform. Briefly peeking over at Felisa waiting impatiently by the door, Beverly lets out a long breath. “Why? Why would he still have these?” 

“Mama?” Felisa fidgets restlessly by the entrance.

Frowning, Beverly nods, abandoning her search. Shaking her head, she crosses the room, still wondering why Jean-Luc has kept a closet full of his Beverly’s old clothes, some of which appear to be as old as Felisa. To her, it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Where Papa?” Felisa asks, reaching for Beverly’s hand.

“He’s sleeping,” advises Beverly, pressing her index finger to her lips as she takes Felisa’s hand with her other hand. “So, let’s be very quiet so we don’t wake him.”

As they enter the kitchen, Felisa spots Picard sprawled across the sofa, a blanket draped across his legs and chest. The toddler giggles, and Beverly steers her over to the table. 

“Shsh. Super quiet, honey. I’ll get you some breakfast,” Beverly tells the girl, helping her into a chair. 

Beverly moves to the replicator and orders a small bowl of oatmeal for Felisa and a glass of milk, returning after a minute to give Felisa her breakfast.

“Pancakes please, Mama,” Felisa requests, twirling the spoon around the small bowl as Beverly takes a seat next to her at the table.

Half-smiling, Beverly shakes her head. “Nuh uh. Pancakes only on Sunday…” Trailing off, Beverly’s face falls, a chill reverberating down her spine. She has no idea where the comment had originated from, but somehow the thought had formed and it had seemed…second nature. 

Shrugging, Felisa lifts a spoon of oatmeal to her lips, digging into her breakfast without further consideration. 

“Good morning,” the low baritone voice startles Beverly out of her reverie, and Beverly jumps, looking up to find Jean-Luc standing behind Felisa.

“Oh, sorry. Good…good morning,” stutters Beverly . “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Half-smiling, Picard ruffles Felisa’s hair as she takes a bite of her cereal. “Not at all. We have to get moving. Was your sleep satisfactory?”

Nodding, Beverly watches as he moves over to the replicator. He didn’t even bother to change out of his uniform last night. He had slept in his uniform. “I, uh, I was just looking this morning….Would you happen to have a robe?” 

Pausing at the replicator, Picard nods stiffly. “Yes. I’ll get it. Excuse me.”

Watching him retreat to the washroom, Beverly is bewildered. When he returns after a moment with a long, pink satin robe, Beverly has to force herself not to visibly show her surprise. What was the robe doing in the washroom? His wife has been gone for six months.

Trying to smile graciously, Beverly accepts the proffered robe and quickly slips it over her shoulders. 

“I’ll make coffee,” offers Picard, moving over to the replicator again. “Black, I presume?” 

Padding over to the replicator, Beverly smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for getting Felisa’s breakfast. She asked for porridge?” Picard hands Beverly a steaming mug of dark coffee, before turning to order a mug for himself. 

Bringing the mug to her lips, Beverly shakes her head. “No. I…I just ordered oatmeal. I don’t…know why.”

Seemingly satisfied, Picard nods, removing his coffee from the replicator. “That’s what you…that’s her typical breakfast.”   
At the sound of a soft thud on the ground, Picard and Beverly whip around, where they discover Wesley paused entering the kitchen, where he had dropped a PADD on the floor when he had been walking in and caught sight of Beverly and Picard at the replicator.

“Wesley!” Beverly exclaims with a massive grin, thrilled to see that her nineteen year-old looks to be the same in this universe as her own. 

Utterly stunned, Wesley is speechless, barely able to look back and forth between Picard and Beverly.

Stepping over to Wesley, Picard nods reassuringly. “It’s alright, Wes. This is Beverly. She’s…a counterpart of…your mother’s from another universe, dimension. She’s not…our Beverly.”

Swallowing hard, Wes stares speechless at Beverly, unable to believe his eyes.

Putting a hand on Wesley’s shoulder, Picard lets out a long breath. “It’s okay. We haven’t determined how she ended up here. But, we’re working on…solving the mystery. In the mean time, I asked…Beverly to stay with us. I invited her here.”

Unable to resist, Beverly jumps forward, reaching for Wesley’s hand. She knows rationally that this isn’t her son, but it’s Wesley and he looks so lost and confused and she can’t not want to help him. “Honey, it’s okay. We’re going to figure this out. I’m so…so sorry.”

Flinching, Wes steps back, retracting his hand. “What the hell is this?”


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

 

“Don’t talk to your mother like…”Picard stiffens, recognizing his words as his chest deflates. Huffing, he looks Wesley square in the eyes, regaining his composure. “Wesley, we’re investigating this thoroughly. In the interim, we’re doing everything we can to make Beverly comfortable.”

Grimacing, Beverly resists the urge to reach for her son (no, her son) and exhales audibly. “I’m sorry, Wesley. I wish we could explain. I’m so sorry for what happened to your mother. I know this must be awful.”

Averting his eyes, Wesley folds his arms across his chest. 

Turning to Picard, Beverly lays a hand on his elbow, a deep frown set across her face. “I’ll go.”

Shaking his head, Picard puts his hand over hers. “No, that’s alright. Wes, come sit down. Let’s just all take a moment to relax.”

About to make her way back to the table, Beverly is interrupted by a tiny pair of hands tugging at the satin fabric of her robe around her knees. Looking down, Beverly can’t help but smile at the bright blue eyes gazing up at her.

“Mama, Spot play!” Felisa takes the small plush orange cat in her hands and runs it up Beverly’s arms, pretending the cat is walking along Beverly’s hand and arm.

Unable to stifle her grin, Beverly looks in confusion at Picard. “Spot? Like Data’s Spot?”

Smirking, Picard bobs his head, watching Felisa attempt to engage Beverly in a game of make-belief in the middle of an intense adult conversation. “Felisa adores Data’s cat. She begged us to get her a cat. We…well, I, would not permit a cat. So, you got her a toy cat, which she proceeded to call ‘Spot’.”

A tiny smile escaping her lips, Beverly runs her hand through the girl’s shoulder-length strawberry-blond hair. “That’s cute.”

Unable to afford the time to indulge in the toddler’s game, Picard redirects her. “Felisa, it’s breakfast time. Go finish your porridge. We can’t be late for school.” 

“Spot play later?” Felisa asks sweetly, looking up at Beverly hopefully.

“Later, sweetie,” agrees Beverly easily, finally letting go of her head and watching the toddler retreat back to the kitchen table.

“How can you do this?” demands Wesley incredulously, pointing at the toddler resuming her seat at the table. “She’s calling you ‘mama’! Felisa thinks this…woman is her mother!”

Inhaling sharply, Picard lays a hand on Wesley’s shoulder. “Wes, it’s complicated. We’re doing the best we can…”

“No,” shouts Wesley, shrugging Picard off, glowering at the older man accusingly. “This is ridiculous! Don’t you even care? Felisa’s already lost her mother. She’s not going to lose her again.”

Breath catching in her throat, Beverly chokes back a sob, her hand covering her heart. 

Face stony, Picard bows his head.

Shaking his head disapprovingly, Wes looks dejectedly between Beverly and Picard. “I don’t know where she came from. But, sooner or later we’ll find out, and she’ll have to be returned. I don’t want to have to explain to my baby sister why her mother’s leaving her…again.”

Tears cascading down her cheeks, Beverly folds her arms across her cheeks, suddenly freezing. 

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Picard attempts to contain the hot tears forming in his eyes. “I understand, Wesley. We don’t want that, either.”

Watching the exchange between Jean-Luc and her son (no, dammit, he’s not her son) breaks Beverly’s heart, and she finds herself glancing to the kitchen table, where Felisa is merrily consuming her breakfast, oblivious to the tension. “I’m…I’m going to go.”

“No,” barks Picard, forceful, voice thick with emotion. Taking a calming breath, he attempts to regain his composure, offering Beverly a weak smile. “No. Please, stay. Have something to eat, get dressed. You…uh…you can find clothes in my closet.” Turning back to Wesley, Picard attempts to brighten. “You can help us. I have Riker, Data and Geordi looking into the mystery of how Beverly arrived in our universe. Get ready, and join Geordi and Data in Engineering at eight-hundred.”

Wordlessly, Wes picks up the PADD he had dropped on the ground and retreats back to his bedroom. 

Watching Wesley disappear, Beverly lays a hand on Jean-Luc’s forearm, frowning in concern. “Jean-Luc, he’s just breaking inside. I shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s alright,” Jean-Luc says as reassuringly as possible, silently wondering to himself how he’ll make it through the day.

* *

PAGE BREAK

“She’s in primary care when the captain is on duty,” explains Deanna, handing Beverly a mug of tea.

“But, who looks after her when he’s not available? Wes?” Beverly inquires, following Deanna over to the sofa in Deanna’s living room. 

“Wes is at the Academy. He’s just between terms right now, so he has a few weeks off,” relays Deanna, slipping onto the sofa. 

Mulling everything over, Beverly lowers herself onto the sofa next to Deanna. “Just like my Wes.”

“I know this is terribly confusing and difficult,” admits Deanna, setting her mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of her. 

“Deanna,” Beverly starts, almost smiling to herself. “I don’t understand. This is…literally out of this world. And, yet, it feels so…natural. I feel like…I belong. I don’t get it…I…feel like I know Felisa. I think I…I was walking her to her primary care room this morning, and I thought nothing of it. It was…as if I had done it two hundred times.”

Half-smiling empathetically, Deanna bobs her head. “I imagine you can imagine…yourself in the other Beverly’s place. I’m sure you feel great affection for Felisa, and Wes, and probably for the captain, as well.”

“I do”, admits Beverly solemnly, her face falling. “I…I just wish I knew what to do.”

“Just take it one day at a time. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” cautions Deanna, patting Beverly’s hand. 

“I’m afraid…we’ll get too close,” confesses Beverly grimly, averting her eyes.

“Try to keep a distance,” Deanna recommends, squeezing Beverly’s hand. “We’ll get this all sorted out.”

 

Frowning, Beverly bows her head. “Yeah.”

 

* PAGE BREAK***

 

Picard pads quietly into his daughter’s room, illuminated softly by a tiny bedside lamp. Felisa is sleeping soundly, tucked between her sheets and clutching her plush cat, “Spot”. Jean-Luc can’t mask the bittersweet smile that forms on his lips at the sight of Beverly curled up beside Felisa in the tiny bed, asleep with a PADD draped across her abdomen. To him, it looks as if Beverly had been reading Felisa a story, and both of them had fallen into a peaceful slumber. Licking his dry lips, Jean-Luc has to ward off the stirrings of grief and summon his strength to walk over to the bed, gathering Beverly’s PADD and gently rousing her. 

“I’m sorry, Beverly,” whispers Jean-Luc apologetically. “That must have been one very effective bed time story.”

Slowly sitting up, Beverly half-smiling, her cheeks warm. “Sorry. Fell asleep.”

“Thank you for putting Felisa to bed,” replies Jean-Luc graciously, offering Beverly his hand. “Let’s find you a more comfortable bed, hmm?”

Smiling as he helps her to her feet, Beverly nods, mindful not to wake Felisa. “Thank you.”

Jean-Luc leads her through to his bedroom. “I’m just going to retrieve some night clothes, and then the room is all yours.”

Beverly traces his path to the closet, curious for another look at the mysterious clothing items she had seen there that morning. “Jean-Luc, can I ask…why do you have…your wife’s old clothes lying around?”

Halting in the middle of the closet, Jean-Luc stiffens.

“I’m sorry,” Beverly rushes to apologize, reaching for ‘her’ uniforms on the one side of the closet. “I mean, what’s the value in keeping these around? Some of these are maternity clothes. Felisa is nearly three years-old!”

Taking the large blue maternity uniform from Beverly’s hand, Picard’s face is set in stone. “Please, don’t…I don’t want to move them.”

“Why?” presses Beverly. “Jean-Luc, she died six months ago.”

“I can’t move anything,” offers Jean-Luc by way of an explanation, his voice agitated and stressed. “Nothing is touched. Everything remains…as is.”

Realization slowly dawning on her, Beverly’s lips part. “You can’t part with it, because it was hers. Parting with it would be letting go.”

Averting his eyes, Jean-Luc doesn’t want her to see the fresh tears brimming in his eyes.

“Jean-Luc,” Beverly lays her hands on his back and shoulders as he attempts to hide his obvious embarrassment. “”Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I understand. You lost your wife, I can completely relate.”

Letting out a ragged breath, Jean-Luc rotates, extending the larger garment in his hands to her. “She wasn’t the only one I lost.”


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

 

Taking the proffered uniform, Beverly’s face fall as the realization sinks in. 

“You…she…my wife…” stutters Jean-Luc, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We were expecting our second child. She was seven months along. She was…carrying my son.”

Tilting her head up, Beverly’s watery eyes meet his clouded hazel ones, full of the profound grief he had been burdened with for six months. “Jean-Luc….”

Letting go of the heavy sigh he hadn’t known he had been holding, Jean-Luc takes the uniform and hangs it back in the closet. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” begs Beverly, reaching for his arm, sniffling. “God, Jean-Luc….I….I don’t even know…I’m so unbelievably sorry.”

Bowing his head, short tears flow down his cheeks in spite of his vain attempt to maintain his stalwart figure. “When she was killed, it nearly killed me. I…I had wished that they had taken me, as well. I didn’t know…how to cope with my despair.” Fixating on the floor, Jean-Luc permits the tears to flow freely for the first time, unable to hide his hurt from Beverly. “But, Felisa crawled into my arms. She was so…innocent, oblivious. She was a baby. She had no idea that she was going to grow up without her mother’s…Voice cracking, Jean-Luc shivers. “Without her mother’s guidance, love. Every part of me wanted to retreat. For the first time, I didn’t care about the ship, command. I felt like my life was over. But, here was this innocent child whose very existence depended on me. I knew I had no choice. Beverly would want me to give Felisa the best life I possibly could. She’d insist that we go on and live as well as possible. I had to be there for Felisa. So, I vowed to be the best father I could be to Felisa, to give her everything, so somehow she wouldn’t feel as lost as I know she would be without Beverly. And, really, she and Wesley are the only reason I still wake up every morning.”

Wrapping an arm around Jean-Luc’s back, Beverly draws him in. “I know. I know, Jean-Luc. I’ve been there. I’m so sorry.”

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Jean-Luc closes his eyes, inhaling Beverly’s familiar scent, her hair brushing against his face. “It’s….it’s terribly difficult, Beverly. You’re here and…”

“I know,” coos Beverly, laying one hand against his neck, her cheek pressed to his. 

Snaking his arm around her back, Jean-Luc exhales audibly, his eyes closed, inhaling her scent, absorbing the familiar feel of her underneath his fingertips. “I know you’re not my wife. I know it’s not the same, but…”

Eyes fluttering closed, cheek-to-cheek, Beverly presses her lips to his tear-stained flesh. “It’s okay.”

He brings a hand up hesitantly to touch her hair, his mind reeling. 

Dammit, this isn’t right. This isn’t his Beverly. She’s from a different universe, and this is temporary. Their time together is fleeting, and she’ll have to go back, and then he’ll be alone, yet again. But, she’s here and she’s still Beverly. Physically and mentally and emotionally she’s the same person he’s loved for twenty-five years, and dammit he’s dying inside.

 

Leaning into his embrace, Beverly’s breath hitches in her throat, Heart pounding against her chest, she’s physically and mentally torn. This isn’t right. This is not her Jean-Luc. This man belonged to another version of herself, and he’s widowed, and he’s acutely grieving right now. Now, he’s in nine kinds of pain and he’s screaming inside and reaching out to her and it’s imperative she puts some distance between them before it gets out of hand. Because, she doesn’t belong in this world. No, no she doesn’t. She has to go back to her universe, and when she does she doesn’t want to upset the delicate situation here with this Jean-Luc and this Wesley and poor, poor little Felisa.

Letting her hair slip between his fingers and trailing his hand down her lower back, Jean-Luc presses his lips to her cheek, desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts. No, no you must step back. But, dammit she’s here and she’s whole and she’s still Beverly and she’s his. His. Yes, his. Jean-Luc feathers kisses across her jaw to her mouth until he captures her lips in a long, slow kiss. Tentative at first, he cradles her head, drawing her in, seeking her out.

Caught off-guard, Beverly moans, melting into his arm as their lips meld. Torn, Beverly is conflicted between pushing back or letting go. This isn’t right. She knows in her head that she should stop, put an end to this immediately. It can’t end well. She has to return to her own life, and this can only end up in heart break for everyone involved. But he’s kissing her with such intimacy and passion and suddenly he’s urgent and he needs her so desperately. In her own universe, she had never embraced Jean-Luc in this manner, and they had never shared this kind of intimacy, But here, now, it’s as if he knows her, always has, and it’s familiar and natural and laced with yearning and longing. His hand is on her hip, his fingers gripping her and she knows she’s never experienced this kind of connection before. “ Jean-Luc…”

The rational side of Jean-Luc is quickly supplanted by his heart, the profound desperation to have her in his arms at any cost. Panting, Jean-Luc briefly breaks off, tracing her swollen lips with his thumb. “Beverly…I need you.”

Resting her forehead against his, Beverly attempts to catch her breath. She can’t change the past. She can’t heal the wound that has been exposed for far too long. But, perhaps, perhaps she can alleviate some of his pain. Perhaps, for one night, she can give him what he most desires, what he craves with every fibre of his being. Perhaps, she can give him one last night with the only woman he had ever loved in any universe. Perhaps, she can give him hope.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

They had made quick work of shedding their uniforms en route to the bed, and now Beverly is naked in his bed on her back with her head between the pillows as he takes his time lavishing her with attention. She’s flushed, overheated and panting as he kneels between her legs, languidly seizing the opportunity to take in every inch of her. Mewling, Beverly tosses her head from side to side, already awash in sensation. She can’t make sense of it. They’re already so connected. He knows her so well. Knows her body, knows her patterns, knows how she moves. He just knows her. She has to remind herself that it isn’t really new for him at all. 

Stroking her intimately, Jean-Luc licks a blazing trail beneath her navel. Relishing the chance to taste her, feel her once again, he’s totally attuned, undeterred by anything. Continuing to caress her with his fingers, he places open mouthed kisses along her chest until he can take a nipple between his teeth.

“Jean-Luc….”, hisses Beverly between parted lips, grasping his head in her hands, trying to draw him closer. She’s always been attracted to Jean-Luc, but this beyond anything she ever could have imagined. One kiss, and she’s hooked. She’s putty in his hands, melting into his touch. 

As he swirls his tongue over her nipple she wraps her legs around thighs, crying out pitifully. Jean-Luc leans up and kisses her hard, aligning their hips.

Slipping her arms around his neck, Beverly watches as he breaks off, slowly entering her, fighting for breath. Closing her eyes, she pecks his lips, running her hands down his shoulders as he sets a slow rhythm. It feels so natural, so right, like they just fit. She can hardly fathom that she’s never been with Jean-Luc. He, however, has been with her, and he knows her and it’s all just too much. 

Forcing himself to set a slow pace, Jean-Luc nuzzles her neck as she gyrates her hips, her nails scratching down his back. He wants to savour this, cherish every second he has to feel her under his skin, taste her mouth, hear the little noises of encouragement escaping her lips. But, it’s been six months since his wife was murdered and as professional and composed as he normally is, dammit, he’s still a man. He wants her, needs her like he cannot recall ever wanting or needing anything in his life and the sweat is beading along his skin as she sighs his name against his ear.

“Jean-Luc…”It’s a plea, and it rumbles against his ear as she grips his buttocks.

He needs no further enticement. He captures her lips in a passionate kiss and thrusts hard, and it’s both of their undoing. 

Regaining his breath, Jean-Luc buries his head in her neck, laying spent half on top and half beside Beverly in the bed.

Slipping her arms around his back, Beverly peppers kisses along his head, caressing his back in circles as their hearts still and their breathing regulates. 

“Beverly,” Jean-Luc murmurs against her neck, bringing a hand up to cradle her face. 

Closing her eyes, Beverly allows her hand to aimlessly stroke his back, basking in the warmth as she attempts to make sense of everything that has transpired.

Kissing her neck and collarbone, Jean-Luc sighs in contentment. “I love you…”

Opening her eyes, fresh tears brim in her eyes, as she quickly remembers the scope of their predicament. Jean-Luc turns on his side, keeping one arm draped over her abdomen as he fights off the sleep threatening to consume him. As she rotates her head, prepared to attempt to vocalize her feelings, Beverly finds Jean-Luc’s breathing slowed, as he’s finally succumbed to the heavy, blissful, bone-tired sleep. 

Dropping a tender kiss to his scalp, Beverly slowly extricates herself from his embrace, gently moving his arm. Stroking his head, she sighs deeply. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

Beverly slips off of the bed and slinks over to the closet, where she tosses on a nightgown and grabs the pink robe. With a wistful glance to a now peaceful slumbering Jean-Luc, Beverly ducks out of the room and escapes to the washroom. She splashes some water over her face and relieves herself before meandering into the dark living room. She collapses onto the sofa and wraps herself in the blanket Jean-Luc had left for himself to use that night and settles in for the night, her mind reeling. Restless, she imagines she’ll spend the entire night berating herself for giving in, for giving them this reprieve. It can’t help anything. It doesn’t solve the problem. She doesn’t belong here. They still have to find a way to get her back to her own universe. And, when they do, she’ll leave behind a world of heart ache in her wake. 

 

* *

 

PAGE BREAK

 

****

 

Gradually rousing, Beverly becomes conscious of muffled giggling and a muted admonishment. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Beverly sits upright on the sofa, orienting herself. Discovering Picard ushering Felisa into a chair at the table, Beverly’s lips curl into a tiny smile. Stretching, she tosses aside the blanket and lazily meanders over to the kitchen. 

“Pancakes, please, Papa,” requests Felisa, taking a sip of milk from the small plastic cup in her hand. 

“No, Felisa,” responds Picard evenly, setting a bowl of oatmeal in front of her. “Pancakes on Sunday. It’s Friday.”

Pouting, Felisa picks up the spoon in the bowl.

 

Hearing the footfalls, Picard turns and spots Beverly walking toward the table. Lips turning up in a smile, Jean-Luc bobs his head and gestures to the seat next to Felisa. “Good morning.”

Smiling coyly, Beverly pauses behind Felisa. “Good morning.”

“Hi, Mama!” Felisa greets animatedly, whipping around in her chair. 

“Come, sit,” induces Picard, tapping the chair. “I’ll get coffee.”

Smiling graciously, Beverly lays a hand on Felisa’s head, running her fingers through the toddler’s hair. “Thank you.” She bends down and drops a kiss to the girl’s crown before slipping onto the vacant chair. 

“I apologize we woke you,” Picard starts, ordering the coffee from the replicator. “We were trying to keep quiet. I just have to get Felisa breakfast before I take her to primary care.”

“That’s alright,” Beverly assures him, waving him off. “I don’t mind at all.”

Picard returns with two mugs and hands one to Beverly, which she gratefully accepts.

Standing next to her chair, Jean-Luc lowers his voice. “Last night…I….”

Looking up at him, Beverly smiles faintly, bittersweet. “Yes….”

Inhaling sharply, Jean-Luc inches closes. “I….I know I was out of line. I…I just wanted to say, ‘Thank you’.”

Smiling gently up at him, Beverly gives her head a small shake. “Of course.”

Jean-Luc reaches for her hand, turning into her. “I’m sorry. I was very…emotional. I put you in a difficult position.”

“No apology needed,” Beverly assures him, squeezing his hand affectionately. “I understand, Jean-Luc.”

Letting out a relieved sigh, Jean-Luc nearly smiles. “Thank you. For everything.”

Smiling remorsefully, Beverly rubs his hand in hers. “But, Jean-Luc, you know…”

“Morning,” grumbles Wesley, entering the kitchen, his eyes downcast. 

Clearing his throat, Picard nods to Wesley, but doesn’t make any move to put any distance between himself and Beverly. 

Watching Wesley take the other seat, Beverly’s heart breaks and head aches. What in the universe has she gotten herself into? And, how does she get herself out of it? As Jean-Luc finally lets go of her hand with a lingering squeeze, Beverly silently wonders if she actually wants to get herself out of it.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

 

“So, if there’s no way to send me back…now what?” Inquires Beverly incredulously, hands open in a gesture of defeat as she sits next to Picard on a sofa in Troi’s office.

 

Sharing a look with Troi next to him on the sofa opposite Beverly and Picard, Riker leans forward, hands on his knees. “We’ve completed our investigation. We’re departing Ashaawa II.”

“What do I do?” presses Beverly loudly, mouth agape in disbelief.

Laying a hand on her knee, Picard rotates to offer Beverly a confident bob of his head. “We’ll make you as comfortable as possible. Counselor Troi and I were talking, and we thought it might be helpful to try to incorporate as many aspects of the life you had in your universe here as practicable. Routine is important. Perhaps you’d like to get back to Sickbay? We’ve been sorely missing our own Doctor Crusher the past six months.”

Face falling, Beverly looks at Picard through narrowed eyes. “You want me to walk into Sickbay and fill your dead wife’s shoes like nothing has happened?”

A wounded look passes over Picard’s face, though he attempts to mask it. No.”

Inhaling sharply, Deanna interjects to attempt to lighten the tension. “Beverly, I’m sorry. I know you’re shocked and upset. We can’t expect you to accept this right now. The captain and I thought it might make you feel better to immerse yourself in a familiar routine. Right now, we just have to take it day by day.”

Nodding to Deanna, Beverly reddens, flustered and embarrassed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know….I know it’s not your fault.” Rotating to face Jean-Luc, she inches closer and meets his gaze. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have….”

Squeezing her knee, Jean-Luc smiles weakly. He knows how strange and stressful this must be for her. “That’s alright.”

“I guess….I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s going to happen,” confesses Beverly, ashamed and frightened. 

Taking her hand, Jean-Luc forgets that they’re in the presence of their comrades. “You can stay with me.We’ll figure it all out.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” warns Beverly tentatively, pulling back slightly. “It’s already precarious with Felisa. And, Wesley’s purely livid that I’m here in the first place.” Her breath hitches when she sees the disappointment cross his face. She would like nothing more than to stroll back into that cabin and make herself at home. It kills her that Wesley’s rejecting her. And, equally as frustrating is that innocent little Felisa accepts her without reservation. Beverly is absolutely torn, wanting to do what is right for both of the children. 

“Well, it’s not easy, of course,” agrees Picard reluctantly, comprehending the rational of her argument, but disagreeing with it, nonetheless. 

“Perhaps Beverly should take up her own quarters, start fresh?” suggests Troi mildly. “You can gradually build a new relationship. It’s going to take time for everyone to get accustomed to this.”

Nodding her acquiescence, Beverly has to consent to Deanna’s plan. As much as she cares for him, she’s not this Jean-Luc’s deceased wife, and she’s not the mother to these children. It’ll take time to adjust to this reality.

 

* *  
PAGE BREAK ****

 

“Mama, Spot play!” Felisa requests sweetly, climbing into Beverly’s lap on the sofa in Picard’s cabin. 

They had just finished dinner and Picard is walking over to the sofa with two mugs of tea in his hands.

“Oh, yes, sweetie,” exhales Beverly with a weary smile. “I did say later, didn’t I?” She makes a mental note to ask Jean-Luc later if he wants Felisa referring to her as her mother. There’s just so much to consider, her head is spinning. 

“Five minutes and you’re putting on your pyjamas and brushing your teeth. Almost time for bed, cherie,” Picard warns the toddler as she curls into Beverly’s arms with her plush version of Data’s feline. 

As Wesley makes to move to his room, Beverly internally aches. She misses her son, and to think that she’ll never see him again is devastating. “Come, sit, honey.”

Whipping around, Wesley casts Beverly a flippant up turn of his chin. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Wesley….” Picard grumbles, lowering himself onto the sofa next to Beverly. 

Sighing, Beverly sinks into the sofa cushion as Wesley disappears into his room. 

“I’m sorry, Beverly,” mutters Picard, irritation in his tone. “I will talk to him.”

“That’s alright,” Beverly waves him off, feigning casual. “I have to remember, his mother died. He’s very hurt and distrustful. I can’t expect him to…”Tears gathering in her eyes, Beverly wraps her arms snuggly around Felisa and drops a kiss to her crown. “To trust me.”

 

Putting a hand on her shoulder, Jean-Luc leans in and drops a tender kiss to her temple, wishing he could absorb all her pain, all her torment. She’s been tossed into a new dimension and lost everything she knows and cannot imagine the weight of the expectation she’s carrying. “He just needs time, cherie. He just needs some time.”

 

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

* *

 

She had gotten a call in the middle of the night from Picard, uncharacteristically nervous, asking her to come over because Felisa was running a raging fever. Without a second thought, Beverly had tossed the pink satin robe over her shoulders and fled through the corridor back to Picard’s cabin, where she had only left a few hours previously after their dinner. 

 

“She was vomiting for half an hour before I even got the chance to call you,” Picard relays,hovering over Beverly’s shoulder as she perches on the edge of Felisa’s small bed, scanning the toddler with her tricorder again.

“It came on so suddenly,” explains Picard, watching Beverly lay a cold washcloth along the girl’s clammy forehead. “I’ve never seen a fever like that.”

Rotating her neck to offer Jean-Luc a reassuring smile, Beverly nods. “She’ll be fine, Jean-Luc. It’s a variant of the strain from Ashaawa II. She was inoculated before you went into orbit. She won’t get the worst of the virus.”

“Won’t get the worst?” Asks Jean-Luc in disbelief, as Felisa groans and clutches for Beverly.

“It’s a harmless virus,” Beverly assures him, turning back to lean down and kiss Felisa’s cheek.

“Tummy hurts, Mama,” cries Felisa wrapping her tiny arms around Beverly’s neck.

“I know, honey,” murmurs Beverly, stroking her hair. “The medicine will make you better soon.”

“What can we do?” demands Picard, hands on his hips.

Beverly loosens her hold and straightens to address Picard. “I can stay and keep an eye on her. The virus will take a few days to run its course.”

“Thank you,” sighs Jean-Luc graciously, relaxing marginally. “What can I get you?”

“Nothing. We’re fine,” replies Beverly warmly. “Go back to sleep. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Crouching to his knees, Jean-Luc leans in and pats his daughter’s head, pressing his lips to her clammy cheek. “You’re in good hands, cherie. Let me know if you need anything. But, you listen to the doctor’s orders. Understood, cadet?”

Nodding weakly, Felisa manages a tiny smile. 

“Call if you need anything,” requests Jean-Luc of Beverly, rising to his feet. He rubs her shoulder, capturing her gaze.

Jean-Luc quietly exits, and Beverly slips into the tiny bed , curling up with Felisa, her knees bent up to her chest. Sighing, she closes her eyes. What had happened to her life in forty-eight hours? Three days ago, her world made sense. No, it hadn’t been perfect, but she understood it. Now, she’s been planted into an alternative reality, one in which her mirror self had been murdered six months prior, leaving behind a massive void. Perhaps Beverly is the right shape, but she wonders if she can truly fill the void that’s been left for her. She deeply cares for this Jean-Luc, Wesley and little Felisa. But, what is her role here going to be? How does she fit in here? Can she really make this work? Does she even have a choice?


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

 

“Baby eat,” Felisa pushes the baby doll in her hands toward Beverly’s outstretched hand with a small piece of dry toast, intercepting Beverly’s route to her mouth. 

Frowning, Beverly shakes her head. “No, sweetie. Your baby’s had enough. I need you to have a few bites of toast.” Sitting on the sofa in Picard’s cabin with Felisa wrapped in a blanket beside her clutching her doll, Beverly is attempting in vain to persuade the toddler to eat some breakfast. Fevered, nauseous and tired, the little girl is in no mood to eat or drink and is rebuffing Beverly’s patient pleas to get her to eat the dry toast and juice.

 

Picard approaches the living area, taking in the scene of Beverly, still in her nightgown and robe, on the sofa with Felisa wrapped in a blanket. “How is she?”

Turning to Picard, Beverly’s lips curve into a deep frown, reaching forward to set the plate with the dry toast on the table in front of them. “About the same. She’s not interested in eating or drinking. Don’t worry. I’ve got a few tricks for picky patients.”

“Hey, Cadet,” Picard raises his voice to Felisa, mock teasing as he joins them on the sofa. “Are you not following orders?”

Smiling lightly, Beverly lays her hand on top of Felisa’s head as Felisa reaches for her father.

“Not hungry, Papa,” Felisa whines, curling into Picard’s shoulder. “Tummy hurts.”

Dropping a kiss to her crown, Picard sighs audibly. “I know, cherie. But, you must listen to your moth…doctor.”

Grimacing, Beverly flinches, as Jean-Luc pauses, carefully considering his words.

Cradling her face, Jean-Luc’s face is plagued in pain. “Please have something to eat, cherie.”

Inhaling sharply, Beverly watches as Felisa hugs her father tightly. “I’ll stay with her while you’re on duty,” offers Beverly. “I’d like to keep an eye on her fever, make sure she doesn’t become dehydrated.”

Smiling gratefully, Jean-Luc lets go of Felisa, bobbing his head. “Thank you, Beverly. I appreciate that.”

Wesley strolls into the living area, silently absorbing the scene on the sofa. “How’s Felisa?”

“Fine,” replies Picard, standing off of the sofa. “Beverly is going to take care of her today while I’m on the Bridge. What are your plans today?”

Watching his little sister crawl into Beverly’s lap, Wesley’s face falls. “Uh…uh, I’m helping Geordi.”

Nodding, Picard tugs at the hem of his uniform jacket. “Yes, I forgot. Well, I better get moving. Beverly, call if you need anything.”

Nodding, Beverly waves as Picard disappears out of the main door and into the corridor.

“I don’t get it,” confesses Wesley, padding over to the sofa.

“What’s that?” Beverly asks as Felisa settles in her arms, the toddler’s eyes growing heavy.

Pursing his lips, Wesley hovers in front of the sofa, crossing his arms. “It’s like….you’re behaving like Felisa is your child. She calls you ‘Mama’. You’re taking care of her when she’s sick. I don’t understand. And, it genuinely seems like you care about her. How can you care about her this way? She’s not yours.”

Taking a long pauses, Beverly ruminates on her words, considering carefully how to articulate her feelings. “I do care about her, Wesley. Maybe that’s crazy, but I don’t think it is. I’m a trained physician. I want to take care of her and see to her well-being, as I would any child in need of medical attention. Even more, she’s the child of a very dear friend of mine, and I can’t help but be more attached to her.”

Exhaling deeply, Wesley bobs his head, trying to understand how this woman perceives her relationship with his baby sister. “You and…the captain are getting very close. I think…I think that you’re blurring the lines between the dimensions, between your world and ours, between who my mother was and who you are.”

As Felisa succumbs to a peaceful slumber in her arms, Beverly gazes at Wesley, his words resonating with profound impact. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Wesley lowers himself to the sofa, folding his hands in his lap as he gazes at Beverly earnestly. “I think you’re falling for Jean-Luc, this Jean-Luc. I think you think Felisa is your own daughter.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, hot tears form in the back of Beverly’s eyes. Clearing her throat, Beverly attempts to nod. “Yes.” 

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

* *

 

“No, Mama! Don’t go!” Nearly leaping out of the bed, Felisa flings herself at Beverly, wrapping her tiny arms around Beverly’s neck. “No! Mama stay. No leave. No leave, Mama. Please no leave.”

Somewhat startled, Beverly envelopes the toddler in her arms, lowering herself onto the bed. “Sweetie, it’s okay.” She swipes at the teasr flowing uninhibited down the small girl’s face, absorbing them with her thumb.

“No, Mama! Stay! No leave again,” wails Felisa, clutching Beverly tightly, sobbing violently. 

Picard perches beside Beverly on the bed, wondering what had prompted the sudden change in his daughter’s behaviour. They had simply been putting her to sleep that evening, and now Felisa is a bawling mess, not wanting Beverly to leave her side. 

“It’s okay, Felisa,” coos Beverly, shifting Felisa back onto her bed to a lying position, still wiping the tears from her face. “I’ll stay. Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?”

Bobbing her head, Felisa whimpers as Beverly bends to kiss her crown. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Close your eyes, sweetie,” whispers Beverly, tucking the blankets over the girl’s chest. “You need lots of rest.”

Sighing in relief, Felisa closes her heavy blue eyes and her breathing decelerates. 

Beverly looks concernedly to Picard as Felisa finally succumbs to slumber.

“I’m sorry, Beverly,” murmurs Jean-Luc, a hand on her shoulder. 

“She’s just feeling vulnerable. She’s sick, she’s confused now that I’m back,” groans Beverly, feeling terribly sorry for the tiny girl.

“We’re putting an awful lot on you, I apologize,” continues Jean-Luc, rubbing her shoulder.

Half-smiling, Beverly leans her head against his. “That’s alright. Do you mind if I stay tonight and keep an eye on her? I’ll just lay my head on the sofa.”

Shaking his head, Picard draws back. “Take our…my bed. You’re exhausted. You were up half the night with Felisa last night.”

“Jean-Luc,” protests Beverly, commencing an argument.

Jean-Luc forestalls her with a finger to her lips, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “Go. Get some rest.”

Letting out a long breath, Beverly relents, too tired to put up a fight.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

 

“Mama!” Hot tears rolling down her puffy cheeks, Felisa sits upright in bed, her arms extended.

Beverly rushes to the small bed in the centre of the room, wondering to herself what had precipitated the sudden outburst of screams from the toddler in the middle of the night. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetie. I’m right here. You’re alright.”

“You goed away!” accuses Felisa, clutching at Beverly as she lowers herself onto the bed. 

“No, I’m right here, honey,” coos Beverly, drawing the girl into her arms. “I didn’t go anywhere. I was just in the other room. I’m not leaving.” 

Wailing, Felisa grips Beverly’s waist tightly, burying her face in her chest. 

Overtly concerned, Beverly rubs the girl’s back soothingly and kisses her crown. “It’s okay, Felisa. I’m not leaving you. I….I promise.”

Jean-Luc pads across the room, observing the scene of his small daughter in acute distress.

Turning at the sound of his footfalls, Beverly grimaces. “Sorry. She must have awoken from a bad dream. Her temperature seems okay. She’s just…beside herself.”

Jean-Luc drops beside Beverly on the bed, appraising Felisa carefully. “Cherie, what’s wrong?”

Sobs subsiding, Felisa sniffles against Beverly robe. “Mama goed away.”

“She was just around the corner, my love,” soothes Jean-Luc, running a hand through her red locks. 

“No,” whimpers Felisa, rotating her head to look at Jean-Luc with trembling lips. “Mama goed away. Mama come back. I don’t want Mama to go away no more.” 

As Jean-Luc infers the deeper meaning of his toddler’s words, his face falls, crushed by the tragedy of it all. His baby has suffered so much, and he can’t stand to see her suffer any further. “Felisa…”

“It’s okay, baby,” murmurs Beverly with hot tears stinging in her eyes, rocking Felisa in her arms. “I promise I won’t leave you.”

Exhaling deeply, Jean-Luc slips his arm around Beverly’s back. He knows logically this isn’t his wife. It’s not his Beverly. It’s so hard because he’s put enormous pressure and expectations on her to settle into this life. But, she’s also accepted this, she wants it and it seems like she’s fully embraced him and his family and this entire life. 

 

“Wanna sleep with you, Mama,” pleads Felisa, clutching Beverly’s robe in her tiny hands. 

Beverly glances at Jean-Luc questioningly, seeking his approval. At his short nod, Beverly begins to scoop the toddler into her arms, lifting herself off of the bed. 

Jean-Luc follows Beverly’s stride through to his room, where she lays Felisa in the centre of the bed and slips in beside her. 

“Alright, cherie. Back to sleep. Close your eyes. We’ll see you in the morning.” Bending low across the bed, Jean-Luc drops a tender kiss to Felisa’s crown. 

“No, Papa!” Felisa cries, reaching for Picard’s neck. “Papa sleep, too.”

Frowning, Picard perches on the end of the bed beside Felisa, sharing a knowing look with Beverly. “Alright, my love. Papa will sleep, too.”

Beverly adjusts the blankets over herself and Felisa as Jean-Luc crawls into the bed beside Felisa, still clad in his robe.

Sighing in contentment, Felisa curls into Beverly, closing her heavy blue eyes. 

Jean-Luc lets out a low breath, turning his neck to look at Beverly in the darkness. “I’m sorry, Beverly. It seems Felisa is having some difficulty adjusting.”

Beverly reaches over Felisa to squeeze his hand affectionately, offering a watery smile. “That’s alright. I understand.”

Swallowing hard, Jean-Luc exhales, rubbing Beverly’s hand. “Did you…did you really mean it…mean it when you promised Felisa you wouldn’t leave?”

Inching over the pillow, Beverly peppers a lingering kiss to his cheek, placing their entwined hands across his cheek. “I’m not leaving. I promise.”

* * PAGE BREAK  
***

 

“Shsh. Quiet, sweetie. Don’t wake Papa. Let’s go out into the kitchen and we’ll make some pancakes, okay?” 

Jean-Luc rouses slowly, unaccustomed to the movement in the bed and the familiar voice beside him. At the sound of muffled giggling, he opens his blurry eyes, discovering a surprising, but wholly welcomed sight. 

Beverly is upright in the bed next to him, Felisa in her lap running her tiny fingers through Beverly’s hair. “Mama’s hair like my hair.”

“Yes. Let’s go to the bathroom,” suggests Beverly. “You can use the toilet, and then we can brush your hair.”

Almost immediately, a lump forms in Jean-Luc’s throat and he can feel tears welling in his eyes. Everything is as it should be. Beverly is home, back in his bed. And it’s Sunday morning and Felisa is awake and wants to play. Suddenly, it’s as if he’s been transported back in time six months. Almost. 

“Morning, Papa!” exclaims Felisa excitedly, pouncing from Beverly’s lap toward Jean-Luc. 

Turning, Beverly offers Jean-Luc a warm smile as he sits up. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” replies Jean-Luc brightly, gathering Felisa in his arms. “You seem a lot better today.”

“Yes, much better,” agrees Beverly, stroking Felisa’s head. “Still a bit of a temperature, but she’s in much better spirits today.”

“Good,” nods Jean-Luc.

“Go on to the washroom, sweetie. I’ll be there in a minute and help you,” instructs Beverly, urging Felisa.

“”Then pancakes?” Felisa climbs off of the bed, Picard easing her off the bed carefully.

“Then pancakes,” laughs Beverly in agreement, bobbing her head.

As Felisa scurries off, Jean-Luc shifts closer to Beverly, snaking his arm around her back. 

Sighing, Beverly leans into him, laying a hand on his chest.

Jean-Luc lays his forehead against hers and feathers a kiss to her lips. “”Thank you. For everything.”

“I wouldn’t…wouldn’t have it any other way,” admits Beverly, realizing that she had never been so confident. She doesn’t know how they’ll make it work. But, she does know that she cares immensely for all of them, and she cannot simply abandon any of them.

 

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

* * 

“When do you have to leave?” Beverly sets the kitchen table, laying out napkins and silver wear. For once, she’d like to have a nice meal with Jean-Luc, Wesley and Felisa. 

“In three days,” replies Wesley dispassionately, helping Beverly set the table. “I wanted to stay until after Felisa’s birthday.”

“Birthday?” Whipping around, Beverly regards Wesley incredulously. “When’s Felisa’s birthday?” 

“Tuesday,” shrugs Wes, walking over to the replicator. 

Pursing her lips, Beverly exhales in displeasure. “Jean-Luc never mentioned it was Felisa’s birthday.”

“Yeah,” sighs Wes, carrying a large pan over to the table. “He’s probably not all that thrilled about it.”

The main cabin door slides open and Picard enters, his step light. “Oh, something smells delightful.”

Smiling lightly, Beverly walks over to the table, two wine glasses in her hands. “Hey. You’re just in time. How was your shift?” 

“Oh, fine,” rumbles Picard, walking over to the table. 

 

“Wes was saying Felisa’s birthday is coming up Tuesday,” remarks Beverly, handing a glass of wine to Picard. “Do you have anything planned?” 

Grimacing, Picard accepts the proffered glass, glancing to Wes. “Not…really.”

Raising a brow, Beverly appears shocked and unimpressed. “Jean-Luc, it’s her third birthday. You have to have a party or something!”

Frowning, Jean-Luc sighs. “I….I know I need to do something.I…I just haven’t.. I haven’t the heart.”

“Why?” presses Beverly, shaking her head.

“Mom would do all that,” supplies Wes, holding his breath. “She…threw the parties, she planned those things, prepared. She liked to do that.”

In comprehension, Beverly nods. She sets down her wine glass on the kitchen table and reaches for Picard’s hand. “Jean-Luc, she’s a three year-old little girl. She needs a party, with friends and cake and balloons. After everything she’s been through, she especially needs this.” 

Nodding shortly, Jean-Luc lets out a long breath. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.”

“I’ll plan a little party?” offers Beverly, seeking his approval.

Bobbing his head, Jean-Luc’s lips curl into a tiny smile. “Thank you, Beverly.”


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

 

“I think Fee is going to have a great time,” remarks Wes as a compliment, perched in the arm chair as Beverly flips through a PADD listing off the various items she’s compiled of to-dos for the birthday party for Felisa in two days. 

From her spot on the sofa next to Picard, Beverly smiles gratefully at Wes, soaking in the first genuine smile Wes has offered to her since her arrival. “I really hope so.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all under control,” agrees Picard, setting his mug of tea on the table in front of them. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“We’ve got a couple days. I’ll help with whatever you need,” offers Wes generously. “We’ll make sure she has a fantastic party.” 

“Thank you, sweetie,” grins Beverly graciously, somewhat surprised, but thrilled that Wes has stopped glaring at her and is willing to work with her. 

Picard and Beverly had put Felisa to bed a couple hours earlier, and the two of them, along with Wesley, had set about planning the party for the remainder of the evening. It had been the first real opportunity Beverly had had to spend time with Wesley, and it seems he is finally starting to let down his guard and open up to her. 

“Well, I’m going to call it a night,” announces Wes, rising from the arm chair. 

“Goodnight,” replies Picard, relaxing back against the sofa cushions.

“Goodnight, honey,” calls Beverly as Wesley disappears to his room.

Picard watches as Beverly sets the PADD on the nightstand.

“That was nice,” admits Beverly, gazing off in the direction of the corridor. “Wes was a lot more engaging, more open with me.”

Slipping his arm around her back, Picard nods. “Yes. I’m sure it’ll take time for him to adjust.”

Beverly rests her head against his shoulder, relaxing for the first time that day. She had spent the majority of the day entertaining Felisa while Picard had been on duty. “You said that you adopted Wesley?”

Bobbing his head, Jean-Luc takes her hand in his other hand. “Yes. When we..she and I married.”

“Why?” inquires Beverly in curiosity.

Closing his eyes, Jean-Luc pulls her closer. “We wanted to have a baby. I didn’t want Wesley ever thinking he was any less my child than the new child we had together.”

Biting her lip, tears well in Beverly’s eyes. Turning her head, she kisses his neck.

“It was important to me that he knew he was my son,” Picard elaborates, tightening his hold on her back. “A family is not defined by genetics, by bloodlines. Family is love.”

Beverly peppers kisses along his neck and jaw, tears cascading down her cheeks.

Jean-Luc brings a hand up to cradle her face, absorbing her tear tracks with his thumb. He captures her lips and kisses her languidly, unhurried. 

Breaking off, Beverly lays her own hand over his on her face, lacing their fingers. “I…I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but…but I know that I care…care very deeply for you, for Wesley, and for Felisa.”

Tracing her lips with his thumb, Jean-Luc, stares at her heatedly. “Beverly, I want with every fiber of my being to make this work. I will make this work. I…” Closing the gap between their lips, he feathers her lips with a lingering kiss. “I love you. You. For you. I want to start anew with you. Please.”

Returning his kiss, Beverly snakes her hands around his neck, manoeuvring into his lap.

“Stay with me,” pleads Jean-Luc, cupping her neck.

Nodding, Beverly stares into his darkened hazel eyes. Heart pounding against her chest, she can’t go back to her quarters. She needs him so bad it hurts.

* *

 

This time, when they’re together, she’s not healing his deep wounds. She’s not helping him recover from the devastating tragedy of losing his wife. He’s not clinging to the memory of the woman he once loved. This time, they’re forging a new bond together, learning and exploring, trusting. This time, there’s no ghosts from the past to linger above. It’s just the two of them, the two of them.

With each of his thrusts, she struggles to keep her eyes open and focused on him. Her shields evaporate, her walls crumble down, and she tries in vain to contain her tears as the weight of the moment overwhelms her.

"I love you," Jean-Luc rumbles into her ear, accelerating his pace.

The profound sentiment of his words combined and the feel of him within her shatters Beverly’s defences. Raising her hips, she meets each thrust with her own until she’s arching into him and crying out her climax. He’s only a step behind her, sighing her name in release. 

Finally, they slow their movements. Sighing in contentment, Beverly splays her hand across his back as their tensing muscles began to relax. Kissing her temple, Jean-Luc shifts them so they are facing eachother, still entwined. Smoothing a few errant strands of her hair away from her face, he feathers kisses along her jawline. “I love you, Beverly. Please. Please, stay.”

 

Resting her forehead against his, the tears she had desperately been trying to withhold pool in Beverly’s eyes. 

Jean-Luc caresses her cheek, absorbing the tear tracks with his thumb. "What's wrong, cherie?”

Smiling up at him warmly, Beverly strokes his cheek. “I love you.”

Grinning, Jean-Luc cradles her face, kissing her deeply. “Beverly…”

“I love you,” repeats Beverly earnestly, slipping her hand around his neck. “I’m staying right here. Always. I promise.”

Smirking, Jean-Luc pecks her lips. “Including tonight?”

Chuckling lightly, Beverly bobs her head. “Yes, my love. Tonight. Forever.”

Jean-Luc entangles his hands in her hair and kisses her fervently.

She rolls them and straddles his hips, continuing to keep their lips locked. Sliding her hands up his chest, she finally breaks off. 

Letting out a contented sigh, Jean-Luc trails his hands down her back, kissing her neck. “I love you.”

Feathering kisses along his collarbone, Beverly soaks in his warmth. In this moment, she had never been so happy.

 

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

* * *

In the past few months, Jean-Luc had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, or on occasion, with the company of his toddler next to him. So, in spite of the fact that the body curled up with him is familiar and welcomed, in half-consciousness Jean-Luc is somewhat surprised by the feel of Beverly’s head against his chest. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he grins, thrilled when he recalls the events of the previous evening. He hadn’t dreamt it. Beverly is here, and she’s real and whole and she loves him and his family, and they’re going to work this out. Somehow.

Resisting the urge to drawn her closer and kiss her, Jean-Luc revels in the feel of her skin on his, basking in the recollection of their night together. No, it’s not perfect, but he loves her more than anything and he knows they’ll find a way to develop their relationship. In the distance, he can hear activity in the kitchen, and he infers that Wesley and Felisa are awake. He recognizes that he’ll have to get up and prepare for his shift, but he’s reluctant to move. Exhaling, Jean-Luc closes his eyes briefly, just absorbing the moment.

Rousing from her slumber, Beverly stirs in his arms, turning her head into his chest. 

“Morning, cherie,” rumbles Jean-Luc into her hair, a grin on his lips.

“Morning,” mumbles Beverly groggily, kissing his chest. 

Tightening his grip, Jean-Luc pulls her closer. “Sleep well?”

“Hhmm,” giggles Beverly, meeting his gaze. “Like a baby. Hey. Where is Felisa?”

“I believe the children are in the kitchen,” relays Jean-Luc, slipping his arms around her back and pulling her on top of him. 

“We should get moving,” implores Beverly, titling her neck away.

Laughing lightly, Jean-Luc blazes hot open-mouthed kisses along her neck. “Oh, what’s the rush?”

“You don’t want to be late. I hear that captain’s quite a stickler,” jests Beverly, leaning up and balancing herself. 

Groaning as Beverly sits upright, Jean-Luc grasps her arms. “Yes. He demands high standards from his crew.”

Giggling, Beverly rubs his abdomen affectionately. “I’ll get Felisa ready for primary care. You can get showered and dressed. There will be plenty of time to play tonight after the kids are in bed.”

Grinning, Jean-Luc bobs his head. “I’m counting on it.”

Turning serious, Beverly looks down at him. “I think I’ll visit Sickbay.”

Leaning up, Jean-Luc shifts Beverly off of him. “Good. You’re welcomed to resume your role. Have a chat with Doctor Hill. He’s been acting Chief Medical Medical Officer. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have you…to have you back.”

“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” whispers Beverly, leaning over to peck his cheek. For the first time since she had arrived in this universe, Beverly is genuinely anticipating the day to come.


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

Deanna wanders over to a table in Ten Forward where Beverly is placing the remainder of the pieces of the large chocolate birthday cake on small plates. 

“Oh, seconds!” exclaims Deanna with a light chuckle.

Laughing along, Beverly hands Deanna a plate with a large piece of chocolate cake frosted with pink icing. “Have seconds. Have thirds and fourths. There’s enough cake here for the entire crew.”

“Shsh!” Deanna accepts the proffered cake, bringing her index finger to her lips. “Don’t tell. More chocolate for me. I mean….the children.”

Grinning, Beverly wipes her hands on a napkin.

“She’s having a wonderful time,” remarks Deanna, glancing over to the back of the room, where Felisa and a few of her friends from primary care are playing party games. 

Folding her arms across her chest, Beverly exhales, nodding in satisfaction. “Yes. I think the party turned out nicely.”

“She needed this,” adds Deanna. “It’s nice that Felisa could just have a party like three year-olds are supposed to do. I’m glad you did this.”

“Thanks for your help,” replies Beverly breezily. “Thank you, for everything.” Offering her friend a grateful smile, Beverly watches the kids from across the room. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’m happy to help any way I can, always,” reiterates Deanna,before turning her attention to the cake on her plate.

Picard approaches the table, a brow raised. “Problem.”

“What’s the matter?” asks Beverly placatingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as her arms are crossed over her chest. 

“It’s eight. Felisa should be in bed, but she’s higher than a kite right now,” explains Picard, hands on his hips. 

Smirking, Beverly looks at him as he walks up beside her next to the table. “It’s her birthday party, dear. She can stay up late for one night. It won’t harm her.”

“She’s covered in chocolate, thanks to your cake,” teases Picard, pointing accusingly at the remaining pieces of cake on the table. 

Chuckling, Beverly shakes her head. “Jean-Luc, she’s having fun at her birthday party. Relax. I promise I’ll get her all cleaned up when we get home.”

Pursing his lips, Picard glances over his shoulder at the children tossing giant helium-filled colourful balloons around Ten Forward. “Very well. Just…uh…no more sugar?”

“Yes, captain,” Beverly smirks, bobbing her head.

Rolling his eyes, Picard nods to Deanna before meandering over to the bar.

Giggling, Deanna swallows her bite of cake. “You’re not going to listen to him, are you?”

“Not at all,” confirms Beverly, giggling. “Perhaps Felisa would like another piece of cake? It is her birthday.” 

Deanna laughs loudly as Beverly collects a few plates with cake to take over to the children. 

* *

PAGE BREAK

* *

“Can’t sleep,” insists Felisa, as Beverly tucks the blankets over her chest as she settles Felisa in for the night late that night. 

“Oh, you’re very tired,” Beverly tells her, kissing her crown. “So tired. Too tired.”

“My tummy hurts,” whines Felisa, wrapping her arms around Beverly’s neck.

“Oh, I wonder why?” teases Picard, shooting Beverly a knowing look as he perches on the end of Felisa’s small bed. 

Ignoring him, Beverly kisses Felisa’s forehead. “You’re just worked up, sweetie. You had a really fun party with your friends, you had so much fun today. Now it’s time to go to sleep. Close your eyes. You’ll be asleep in no time.”

Hugging Beverly snuggly, Felisa smiles into her neck. “Thank you, Mama. Party was very, very, very fun.”

Smiling warmly, Jean-Luc is openly emotional as Felisa embraces Beverly. 

“Thank you for my new dolly,” Felisa says, referring to the new baby doll in the bed beside her that Beverly had given Felisa for her birthday.

“You’re welcome, honey. Happy birthday. I love you,” Beverly kisses Felisa’s cheek and disentangles from her embrace with a light squeeze.

Jean-Luc bends over and drops a kiss to Felisa’s crown. “Happy birthday, cherie. I love you. Sleep well.”

“Night, Papa.” Felisa kisses Jean-Luc cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”

Jean-Luc rises to his feet as Felisa yawns and buries her face into her pillow. 

“Goodnight, sweetie,” whispers Beverly, following Jean-Luc’s path to their room. 

“Thank you, Beverly,” says Jean-Luc graciously, drawing Beverly into his arms as they reach their bedroom.

Exhaling, Beverly falls into his embrace. “Ah. Long night.”

“Thank you.”Jean-Luc brings a hand to weave through her hair and kisses her temple. “I’m so glad Felisa had this. Thank you.”

“Of course,” whispers Beverly, snaking her arms around his back. “I was thrilled to do it.”

“All I wanted…” Jean-Luc kisses her hair, his eyes fluttering closed. “All I wanted was to be a good father. I wanted to do right by Wesley and Felisa after my wife died.”

Turning in his arms, Beverly tilts back to study his face, hazel eyes watery. “Jean-Luc…”

“It wasn’t always easy, and some thing were just so difficult. You…You’ve given me the courage and the strength to be the best father possible to those children. Thank you, Beverly,” Jean-Luc murmurs hoarsely, one hand cradling her face. “They deserve nothing less.”

Tears pooling in her own eyes, Beverly pecks his lips, bringing a hand up to swipe at his tear tracks. “They’re lucky. We’re all lucky. We have…a new hope.”

“Yes,” grins Jean-Luc, kissing her back. “Hope.”

 

* *

PAGE BREAK 

 

“Promise you’ll call when you get to the Academy?” Beverly runs her hand down Wesley’s arm, frowning. She and Wesley are in the main shuttle bay, standing in front of his assigned shuttle, awaiting his departure. She had taken a break from her shift in Sickbay to see him off, knowing it would be months before she’d see him again.

Rolling his eyes, a tiny smile escapes Wesley’s lips. “Yes. I’ll call you when I get in. I promise.”

Enveloping him in her arms, Beverly hugs Wesley soundly, wishing she didn’t have to let go. “God, Wesley. I’m going to miss you.”

Retracting his arms, he gives her hand an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll miss you, too. But, I’m not sad to go. I’m glad to know you’re here this time.”

Smiling lightly, Beverly squeezes his hand back. “Always.”

Growing earnest, Wes exhales deeply. “Take good care of Papa and Felisa.”

Grinning, Beverly bobs her head as Wesley steps inside the shuttle. “I will, honey.”

“Take care of yourself, Mom,” calls Wesley, a massive grin on his face. With a final wave, he closes the door to the shuttle.

Hand covering her lips, Beverly is half smiling, half crying as she backs out of the room. Not only has she come to adopt this young man as her son, but it seems that he has come to accept her as his mother. What was it that Jean-Luc had said? Family isn’t determined by genetics or bloodlines. Family is love.


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12

 

“Well, this is lovely. Thank you.” Picard rests his wine glass on the grass beside him. Inching closer to Beverly on the wool blanket spread across the earth near the pond in the arboretum, Jean-Luc wraps his arm around her back.

“Happy anniversary,” Beverly grins, abandoning her own glass of wine on the grass on the other side of her before curling into Jean-Luc’s embrace. 

“We didn’t have to do this,” Picard reminds her, caressing her lower back aimlessly, his eyes wandering to the large pond in the arboretum, where they had chosen to set up a picnic dinner. 

Beverly lays her head on Jean-Luc’s shoulder and laces their fingers. “It’s your wedding anniversary. It’s cause for celebration.”

Beverly had insisted that the two of them have a proper night out to mark the occasion of Jean-Luc and Beverly’s wedding anniversary, so they had left Felisa in Deanna’s care and planned a date night. Jean-Luc had been quiet, pensive, earlier in the day. Three months had passed since Beverly had mysteriously appeared in their world, and he couldn’t be happier to have her here. The two of them had been forging a new relationship since Beverly’s arrival, and she fits into their universe just as well as her counterpart had. However, he wonders if she’s perfectly at home here. He knows if they’re truly to forge onward, he has to truly let go of the past. 

“What’s the matter?” Beverly brings her free hand up, tilting his chin to face her.

Smiling dismissively, Jean-Luc attempts to wave her off. “Nothing.”

“Talk to me, Jean-Luc. You’ve been quiet all day. I’m sure this isn’t an easy day.” Beverly strokes his jawline, staring imploringly into his eyes. 

Exhaling audibly, Jean-Luc glances down at their entwined fingers, rubbing her fingers between his. “May I ask you…Do you consider us…married?”

“Married?” repeats Beverly, ruminating on the word. “Well, I don’t know. Not really. I mean, you were married to her. I was never married to the Jean-Luc from my universe. What we have is something new. Different.”

“I agree,” Jean-Luc raises their joined hands and kisses her knuckles. “However, I’ve hardly been fair to you.”

“How so?” asks Beverly, almost with a laugh. 

Sighing heavily, Jean-Luc releases her hand, outstretching his left hand. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Beverly when I lost her, so I refused to let anything go. But, she is gone. And, I am infinitely grateful to have you, because the joy and love you have brought me and my family is beyond measurable.”

Smiling lightly, Beverly pecks his lips. 

“It’s time I completely let go.” With the index finger and thumb of his right hand, Jean-Luc slides the gold band off of his ring finger, inhaling sharply. 

Mouth agape, Beverly watches as Jean-Luc takes his wedding band and, with a warm smile, tosses it into the pond. Gasping, Beverly is stunned as Jean-Luc draws her in.

Jean-Luc cups her cheek and captures her lips in a deep kiss.

“Jean-Luc…” Beverly draws back, surprised and confused as she braces a hand against his chest.

“I have something for you, “ confesses Jean-Luc, leaning back to reach into the pocket of his loose-fitting casual trousers.

“Jean-Luc…” Beverly whispers softly as he produces a small velvet bag.

Jean-Luc retrieves two gold bands from the tiny velvet bag and, grinning, presents them for Beverly’s inspection. “Marry me? Again? Still. Please?”

Grinning wildly, Beverly cups his cheeks, laughing lightly. Bobbing her head, she presses her lips to his. “Yes. Then. Now. Forever. Always.” 

Jean-Luc returns her kiss with vigour. “I love you.”

“I love you,” echoes Beverly breathily, already panting.

Jean-Luc pauses, taking the opportunity to slip the gold band on her ring finger. 

Resting her forehead against his, Beverly lets out a contented sigh as he brings her finger to his lips. Beverly fumbles for the other ring in his hands, grinning as she slips it onto his finger.

“Married,” murmurs Beverly,” lacing the fingers of both of their hands, nuzzling his nose.

Feathering kisses around her lips, Jean-Luc stares at their entwined hands. “If you’d like an actual wedding…”

Giggling, Beverly shakes her head. “No. I’m sure your first one was lovely.”

Face falling, the corner of Jean-Luc’s lips curl in the semblance of a smile.

“I’m kidding!” Beverly chuckles, dropping a hand to Jean-Luc’s chest, happy tears gathering in her eyes. “Honey, I’ve no need for a ceremony. We’re already legally married. Let’s move on.”

Jean-Luc drops his hands to her waist and places open-mouthed, hot kisses to her neck. “Good. No reason we shan't enjoy a little honeymoon tonight, hmm?”

Beaming, Beverly caresses his scalp as he blazes a trail of wet kisses down her chest. “Yes! Ah, so logical, my dear captain. I knew there was a reason I married you.”

Jean-Luc kisses her breast over top of her cotton dress. “Here I thought it was for my sunny disposition.”

* *


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

It had taken her all day, but Beverly is finally finished. 

“It looks amazing, Beverly,” gushes Beverly, adjusting the old-fashioned wooden dresser even against the wall. 

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Beverly wonders aloud, not for the first time that day, taking a soft white quilt and laying it down in the wooden crib in the centre of the room. 

She and Deanna had spent the day while Picard was on duty moving Wesley’s bed, furniture and remaining belongings out of his room and converting his room into a nursery. Beverly had recently learned that she is pregnant, and wanted to surprise Jean-Luc with the nursery. 

When her counterpart Beverly had been pregnant, she and Jean-Luc had placed a crib, changing table and small dresser in Felisa’s room, intending to have Felisa share her room with the baby. However, Beverly figured Wesley would not be visiting the ship frequently, and preferred to turn his room into a nursery for the new baby. And, she wanted to start fresh, making a new room for the new baby that they had created together. When they had gotten together, she and Jean-Luc had eventually went through all of her counterpart’s personal affects, deciding what to keep and what to throw away. It had been an emotional, heart-wrenching experience, but it had had to be done. Jean-Luc had decided to donate all of the baby furniture and clothes they had had for the child they had been expecting when his Beverly had been killed. 

“He’ll be thrilled,” Deanna reiterates, probably for the third time that day, surveying the room. 

“When we went through all of Beverly’s stuff and gave away the baby stuff, he was aching. It was awful,” Beverly reminisces, padding over to Deanna. “He wanted that baby so badly. And, I know, I just feel how much he’d love to have another. He just…he didn’t want to come out and ask because…because he doesn’t want me to feel pressured.”

“He feels like he’s putting pressure on you to fill her shoes,” confirms Deanna, putting a hand on Beverly’s arms. “He doesn't want to create any more expectations for you, or make you feel inferior or inadequate if you can’t or won’t do something. And, he doesn't want you to think that he wants to replace her, or replace the unborn child he lost.”

Bobbing her head, Beverly takes Deanna’s hand, swallowing hard. “Yes. I know he wants to create something new with me, he’s just a little scared to ask.”

“Well, I know he’ll be very excited when you tell him,” Deanna grins, squeezing Beverly’s hand. 

“Yes,” agrees Beverly, letting out a slow breath, appraising the room approvingly. “Yes.”

“It’s time for me to fetch Felisa from school,” Deanna relays, dropping Beverly’s hand. 

“Thank you, Deanna,” Beverly says graciously as Deanna moves to the doorway.

“Take your time in the morning. My first appointment isn’t until ten, so there’s no rush to pick Felisa up,” Deanna tells her, meandering into the living area. 

“She loves sleepovers at Auntie Dee’s,’ chuckles Beverly, following Deanna through the living area.

“That’s because we eat hot fudge sundaes and get pedicures,” chortles Deanna, approaching the cabin’s main entrance.

“Shsh!” giggles Beverly, raising her forefinger to her lips. “Don’t tell Jean-Luc!”

With a pronounced wink, Deanna opens the door. “I won’t if you won’t!”

“Thanks, Deanna,” calls Beverly as Deanna ducks out into the corridor. 

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

“I’ve never been as happy as I am right now,” confesses Jean-Luc, feathering open-mouthed kisses along Beverly’s neck, his arms encircling her waist from behind as he rests his head on her shoulder.

Beverly had surprised Jean-Luc with the nursery, and he had been shocked and over-joyed. She had walked him around the tiny room, showing him the change table, crib, large toy box and dresser. The highlight, however, had been presenting him with a holo photo of the scan of the twelve week-old fetus , their growing baby. Now, the two of them are revelling in the moment, taking in the pale-yellow painted room with wooden furniture and the image of their unborn child for the first time together. 

Beaming, Beverly’s eyes are filled with joyful tears, staring at the holo image of the fetus growing within her resting on the dresser in the nursery. “Me neither.”

“This is fantastic,” Jean-Luc rumbles against her ear, his hands on her stomach splaying across the cotton fabric of her loose knee-length sundress. 

“I’m glad you’re so happy,” exhales Beverly in relief, tilting her neck into his touch.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jean-Luc playfully admonishes, tightening his hold around her midriff. 

Lips falling into a half-frown, Beverly exhales, her eyes trained on the holo photo of the scan of the growing fetus that she had conducted earlier that week. “I was just worried. I just wanted to wait until I had reached twelve weeks and given the baby a thorough scan. I was concerned there could be something wrong with the baby, given my age, that I haven’t been pregnant in twenty years. The last thing I wanted was for something to be wrong, and for you to have to endure that kind of loss again.”

Inhaling sharply, Jean-Luc reaches for Beverly’s hand. “Cherie, if something had been wrong with our child, the last thing I would want would be for you to endure that kind of hardship or loss alone. Don’t ever, ever try to hide grief for me. We’re in this together, for the good, for the bad, and for the impossibly wonderful.”

Leaning back against his chest, Beverly lets out a breath, bobbing her head. “Yes, my love. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“So, those few days when you were nauseous and late for your shift?” Brows knitted together, suddenly Jean-Luc realizes that Beverly has been concealing this for an entire month, covering up some of the discomforts of her pregnancy. 

Chortling, Beverly nods. “I didn’t have that virus we picked up, just a bit of morning sickness. It’s not limited to the morning. I had to tell you about the baby now or you were going to get suspicious.” 

Feigning mock offence, Jean-Luc chuckles. “My own wife, master conspirator.”

Giggling, Beverly relaxes against his chest, grateful to finally be able to share all this with Jean-Luc. 

Drawing her hand to his lips, Jean-Luc kisses her knuckles in turn. “None of that matters. I’m just thrilled.”

Titling her head, Beverly drops a kiss to his shoulder. “I wanted this, very much. But, I also knew how much you wanted to have another baby. Why didn’t you ever tell me how happy this would make you? Why didn’t you ever ask if this is something we could do for our family?”

With a ragged inhale of air, Jean-Luc purses his lips, rubbing Beverly’s fingers between his. “I thought if I asked you if we could have a baby, that you would think I wanted to replace my unborn son. I thought maybe you’d think I wanted what I had with her. I don’t want you to replace her, and I don’t want this child to replace my unborn child. I just want us, I just want the family we have, including this new baby whom I will love with every fibre of my being.”

Sighing in understanding and contentment, Beverly rotates again to kiss his neck. “I know that, love. That’s why I removed my contraceptive implant.”

Chuckling softly, Jean-Luc brings a hand up to weave through the hair on her shoulder, brushing it aside to place open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder and collarbone. “Clever, Doctor. I am…so very grateful you did.”

Beverly melts back into his touch, a soft hiss escaping her lips.

Jean-Luc trails his hand along her side, stopping to graze along the curvature of her breast. “I do believe this splendid news calls for a celebration.”

Grinning, Beverly arches her head back, letting it fall onto his shoulder as he presses his pelvis flush against her backside. “Mmm…yes. I have this lovely little dinner planned.”

“Oh, terrific,” rumbles Jean-Luc against her ear, tracing the edge of her ear with the tip of his tongue. “Let’s start with dessert first, shall we?” 

“Yes,” moans Beverly, eyes drifting closed as Jean-Luc’s hand gently kneads her breast.


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14

 

“No,” Picard curls his fist into a ball, exhaling deeply through his nose.

“”I’m going, Captain,” insists Beverly fervently, rising out of her chair in the observation lounge and slowly padding over to Picard at the head of the conference table.

“Sit down, Doctor,” commands Picard, lips tight. “You’ll remain in Sickbay.”

 

“Dammit, Jean-Luc,” huffs Beverly, waddling over to Jean-Luc with her ever-expanding lab coat over her overtly protruding stomach. “You need all the help you can get down there. I’m a duly qualified physician. There’s patients in need. I’m going down there to help those civilians dying on a war-torn planet.”

Fixing Beverly with a steely gaze, Picard shakes his head. “Resume your seat, Doctor. Ask Doctor Selar to lead the medical Away Team. I need you in Sickbay. And, need I remind you that you are supposed to be on light duty?”

Thoroughly riled, Beverly reddens as their colleagues around the conference table watch the uncharacteristically heated exchange between the captain and doctor. “No, Captain. I’m leading our relief effort down there. It’s my job. I can do it. I am not an invalid.”

Literally biting his tongue, Picard averts his eyes, discovering hot tears burning the backs of his eyes. It’s dejavu, and he cannot cope with it. Not now, not when there’s a crisis below them in need of urgent attention. Not when his wife is eight weeks shy of delivering his child. No. It’s all eerily familiar, and it sends a chill reverberating down his spine.

Troi, in the chair beside Beverly pacing around Picard, stands quietly and reaches for Beverly’s hand. “Let’s go see how the medical staff are coming along with the supplies.”

Clearing his throat, Riker, on the chair on the opposite side of the table, bobs his head. “Thank you, Counselor. Let us know when we’re ready to beam down.”

Bowing her head, Beverly nods sombrely. 

Picard looks out the viewport as Deanna guides Beverly out of the room, with Riker, Data and Geordi trying not to stare between all of them.

“Thank you,” murmurs Beverly as Deanna leads them to the turbolift. “I was…losing my temper in there.”

“I understand,” Deanna assures her, linking their arms. 

“I was a little pissed. He’s treating me like a China doll,” remarks Beverly indignantly. “Can you believe him?”

“Actually, I can,” confesses Deanna, the turbo lift door opening in front of them.

Offended, Beverly’s jaw drops as Deanna ushers her in. 

Frowning, Deanna gives Beverly some additional room in the lift. “Beverly, he was physically aching in there. He’s palpably worried about you, about the baby.”

Mouth agape, Beverly sighs, the recognition dawning on her. “Because she and the baby were killed on a mission?” 

Grimacing, Deanna lets out a long breath. “Yes.”

“Oh, Deanna,” groans Beverly, her hand drifting to her belly. “I was out of line. So was he, but I really shouldn’t have behaved that way.”

“You can go back and talk to him,” suggests Deanna as the lift doors open to their destination. Deanna had interjected, wanting to bridge the gap between the couple, knowing how the captain feels, and wanting to prevent an uncomfortable confrontation in the observation lounge that both Picard and Crusher would later come to qualify as unprofessional. 

“I will,” Beverly smiles, striding into the corridor with Deanna. 

Jean-Luc had been extremely over-protective of her and the baby throughout her pregnancy, and occasionally they would argue over her tendency to over-work herself and want to participate in projects that he would deem too risky. As her delivery grows imminent, Jean-Luc’s anxiety increases. Now, of course, she had pushed him beyond his limitation, and she can fully appreciate where his apprehension originates from. And, while she doesn’t necessarily agree with him, she does want to put him at ease.

* *

PAGE BREAK

 

“Somebody tell me what the hell is happening down there?” demands Picard, running up to Riker in the emergency ward of Sickbay.

 

 

Tapping his commbadge, Riker frowns as two nurses transport into the ward carrying a wounded security officer. “Data’s not responding, Sir. Riker to Worf, we need an update.”

Picard hits his commbadge furiously. “Data. We know there’s been an attack. What’s your security status?” 

No sooner had the words escaped Picard’s lips is Data appearing in the middle of Sickbay, carrying Crusher in his arms. Within seconds, Doctor Selar materializes with a nurse carrying a wounded medical technician.

Panicking, Picard lunges toward the centre, where Data is gently depositing a heavily bleeding Crusher onto a biobed.

“What’s going on? “Riker inquires, following Picard to the middle biobed where Crusher is lying, almost convulsing.

Doctor Selar and the nurse arrange the male technician on a biobed at the end of the room before Doctor Selar signals to the nurse to tend to the tech while she moves to the more urgent patient in need. 

“The infirmary was ambushed for supplies,” Data relays, stepping back from the bed as Picard rushes to the head of the bed to examine Beverly, and Doctor Selar rapidly moves in beside Data to assess Crusher’s condition. 

“Doctor Crusher took the blow from a phaser when she was trying to move a patient to safety,” Data elaborates for the captain and First Officer. He wordlessly backs off to stand near Riker, trying to get out of the way of the medical team tending to Crusher. 

Eyes dilated, Jean-Luc gently touches Beverly’s head as Doctor Selar scans her with a tricorder. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” His eyes roam over her white, shaking body, blue lips, a red puddle of blood staining her uniform around her abdomen. Paling, Jean-Luc fights to keep his own blood pumping properly.

“She is in shock,” pronounces Doctor Selar. “She is losing blood. I need to get her into surgery.”

“The baby?” demands Picard, his other hand reaching for Beverly’s.

“The baby’s heart rate is plummeting. It is imperative that we operate,” replies Selar , motioning to Nurse Ogawa on the far side of the room. 

“No,” protests Beverly with a painful groan, her head falling to the side. 

Alarmed, Jean-Luc cradles her face with his hand. “Cherie…”

“Apologies, Doctor,” Selar responds clinically, pressing a hypospray to Crusher’s neck. “We have no options.”

“It’s…too…soon,” grunts Beverly, grimacing in pain, trying to look up from the bed to Jean-Luc to convey her desperate concern.

“Beverly…”Jean-Luc stutters, rubbing her hand between his.

“If I do not deliver the baby, it will not survive, Doctor,” concludes Selar simply as Alyssa Ogawa approaches the biobed. 

Choking in sobs, Beverly can barely breathe. “Jean-Luc…”

“It’s alright.” coos Jean-Luc, grazing her cheek with his thumb, absorbing her tears with the pads of his fingers as Selar administers another hypo. 

“I’m sorry,” chokes Beverly, shaking, sobbing. “I’m so sorry…”

Squeezing her hand, he lifts her arm and brings her fingers to his lips. “Shsh. Everything is going to be fine.”

Sobs subsiding, Beverly gradually calms, her eye lids drooping. “I’m…sor…Should have…listen…You….right.”

Brushing his lips over her knuckles, tears dribble down Jean-Luc’s cheeks. “No. It’s okay, cherie. Everything…everything will be fine. It must be…okay.”

Clearing her throat, Selar raises a brow. “Captain, we must move Doctor Crusher to the operating room.”

His eyes drifting shut, Jean-Luc kisses her hand and gently returns it to her side at the biobed. “I love you. I love our little one. I know you can do this. Beverly, you must…must do this. I cannot…I cannot…”

Crusher is anaesthetized, unconscious and oblivious to his words as the biomonitors overhead chirp.

Alyssa offers the captain an understanding frown. “Sir, we’ll let you know as soon as she’s out of surgery.”

With a deep sigh, Riker puts a hand on Picard’s shoulder, attempting to steer him away from the bed. “Sir, I’ll ask Deanna to meet you in the lounge. I’m going to go to the Bridge and find out what’s going on down there. Data, contact Worf. I want a more detailed report.”

Jean-Luc doesn’t hear his friend’s words as the doctor and nurse take his injured and unconscious wife and unborn child away.


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15

Perched on the sofa next to Picard in the waiting lounge in Sickbay, Troi observes as Felisa, nestled in her father’s lap, buries her head in his chest. “Felisa, why don’t you and I go and get some dinner? We can get your father something to eat.”

Troi had scurried to Sickbay as soon as she had heard of the assault on the infirmary on the planet they are orbiting, and she had been attempting to keep Picard company in the waiting room in Sickbay as Beverly undergoes surgery after being assaulted by one of the attackers. Troi had retrieved Felisa from school when the class had ended, and since then had been sitting in relative silence with Picard. Picard had been extremely pensive, brooding, closed-off, merely holding Felisa and waiting impatiently for the doctors to bring news. In the interim, Riker and Data had calmed the situation and are in command of the ship.

 

Shaking her head, four year-old Felisa grips Picard’s uniform jacket between her fists.

Letting out a long breath, Jean-Luc loosens his hold on his daughter. “Go with Counselor Troi. Eat your dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” retorts Felisa with a whine.

“No arguing,” Picard reprimands, shifting Felisa to her feet on the ground. “Go with the counselor.”

Deanna stands out of her chair and takes Felisa’s small hand in hers. “Come on, sweetie.” She offers the captain a weak smile. “What can I get you, sir?”

Lips turning upward, Picard leans into the back of the sofa. “A coffee would be great, thank you.”

Knowing better than to elicit an argument in his current state, Troi nods. She wants him to eat something, but she doesn’t want to aggravate him further. She decides she’ll bring Picard a coffee and a a light dinner, and hope for the best. “Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Deanna,” whispers Picard, running a hand over his face.

Deanna leads a somber Felisa out of Sickbay, hoping to distract the little girl for a little while and leave Picard to await the results of Beverly’s surgery in solitude.

* *

PAGE BREAK

Picard is absently scanning the PADD in his hands as he sits in the waiting lounge in Sickbay, skimming through the report Riker had sent him to keep himself apprised of the situation on the planet. It seems Riker, Data and Worf have the situation well-controlled, and Picard is grateful for a short diversion from his obsessive worrying while he awaits any sort of update about Beverly and the baby’s status. Tossing the PADD onto the table beside him, Picard hardly notices the appearance of the young blonde male doctor approaching.

“Captain?” Doctor Hill walks up to Picard cautiously.

Picard jumps to his feet, staring at the doctor expectantly, urgently. “How are they?”

With a reserved smile, Doctor Hill bobs his head assuringly. “They’re both going to be fine, Captain.”

Almost stunned, Picard ruminates on the doctor’s words, staring at him carefully. “Beverly? The baby?”

“Doctor Crusher is recovering nicely,” Doctor Hill pronounces positively. “She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll make a full recovery. The baby was unharmed. He’s a little small, a little under-developed, but he’s doing very well considering.”

Relief flooding through him, Jean-Luc sighs in contentment and joy. It takes a moment to register the doctor’s words. “He? We…we have a son?” 

“Congratulations, Captain,” Doctor Hill grins, folding his hands in front of him. 

“I need to see them,” insists Picard, bobbing his head.

Nodding, Doctor Hill motions for Picard to follow him. “You can visit Doctor Crusher for a while. She’s still sleeping. She needs plenty of rest now.”

“I understand,” mumbles Picard, not paying any attention to the doctor as he leads them through to a private room where Alyssa Ogawa is checking the biomonitor above the biobed where a pale, sleeping Beverly is lying beneath a pile of blue blankets.

Turning around, Alyssa offers Picard a light smile and walks towards them. “She’s just sleeping, sir.”

“Thank you,” answers Picard quickly, moving to the head of the bed, his eyes roaming over his wife, rapidly assessing her condition. 

“Where’s Doctor Selar?” Picard inquires, mentally noting how much better Beverly looks now than compared to when she entered Sickbay after the attack. She’s a little pale, obviously exhausted, but they had repaired her injuries and she’s no longer in distress.

“She’s tending to the baby, sir,” Alyssa replies as Doctor Hill exits.

Lowering himself into the small chair beside the bed, Picard briefly turns to the nurse. “I want to see the baby. Can you ask her to the bring the baby?”

Hesitant, Alyssa eventually nods. “I’ll see what I can do, Captain.”

“Thank you,” replies Picard, returning his attention to Beverly.

Leaning down and over, Jean-Luc strokes her tangled hair and presses his lips to her cool forehead.

A low moan escapes Beverly’s lips, rousing at the feel of his touch.

“Shsh. It’s okay,” murmurs Jean-Luc against her ear, reaching for her hand with his spare hand. 

Eyes fluttering open, Beverly searches for his gaze.

“It’s alright,” Jean-Luc assures her, feathering light kisses along her cheek.

Eyes dilating, Beverly almost gasps. “Jean-Luc!”

“You’re okay,” he repeats, squeezing her hand gently.

“The baby!” Beverly cries, attempting to right herself.

“Hey, take it easy,” cautions Jean-Luc, easing her shoulders back to the bed. He kisses her lips tenderly, grazing her cheek with his thumb. “The baby’s fine, cherie. You delivered a healthy little boy.”

“Boy?” cries Beverly, her lips trembling. “We have a son?”

Grinning, Jean-Luc nods, pecking her lips once more. “Oui, cherie.”

“He’s okay?” Asks Beverly in disbelief, her mind reeling. “It’s too early.”

“Doctor Hill said he was small and under-developed, but he would be fine. Selar was with him. I’ve asked for her to bring him in. I want to see him, want to talk to the doctor,” Jean-Luc elaborates, running her fingers through his hand. 

“Oh, Jean-Luc,” sobs Beverly, her fingers covering her lips. Swallowing the lump in her throat, hot tears cascade down her cheeks as she gazes up at him helplessly. “I am so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. You’re marvellous,” responds Jean-Luc, smiling against her hair.

Bawling, Beverly shakes her head furiously. “No. This is all my fault. I should have listened to you, I should never have gone down there to help. You were worried. You were right.”

“No. Stop, cherie,” commands Jean-Luc, cradling her face in one hand, absorbing the tear tracks on her face with his lips. “You did nothing wrong. Never blame yourself.”

“We could have lost the baby,” argues Beverly, tilting her head, sobbing into Jean-Luc’s neck. “I could have put you through all that pain again.”

“But, you didn’t,” Jean-Luc points out, running his hand through her hair. “You’re fine. The baby’s fine. He’s going to be fine, Beverly. Take a breath. You’re overwhelmed right now. Just take it easy.”

Inhaling sharply, Beverly wraps an arm around Jean-Luc’s back and breathes into his neck, focusing on taking steadying breaths. 

* *   
PAGE BREAK

Jean-Luc, arm wrapped around Beverly’s back, can’t stop grinning. He’s alternating kissing her cheek and neck and staring in awe and amazement as Beverly cradles the newborn to her chest.

Tears trickling down her face, Beverly is entirely consumed in joy, contentment and the overwhelming love of the moment as she holds her newborn for the first time, her husband beside her in absolute elation.

“He’s so tiny,” Beverly remarks in awe, cuddling the swaddled infant to her chest securely.

“He’s perfect,” declares Jean-Luc, kissing her temple.

“How big was Felisa when she was born?” sniffles Beverly, staring at her new born son.

“Probably twice that size,” teases Jean-Luc. “I’ve no idea, Beverly. Small.”

Beverly leans back into Jean-Luc’s chest, sighing in exhaustion.

“Hey,” Jean-Luc slips his arms over hers, gazing down at the dozing infant. “Our tiny cadet needs a name.”

“Hmm,” agrees Beverly, resting her head against his shoulder. “Well, I was thinking. You named Felisa after my grandmother. How about naming our little man after your grandfather?”

“Pierre? Oui,” laughs Jean-Luc, his eyes trained on his son. “Yes. I think that’s quite fitting.”

Beverly leans down and presses her lips to the baby’s tiny cheek. “Oh, I had forgotten how this feels. Oh, Jean-Luc….” She’s exhausted and achy and hormonal and all she wants to do is hold the baby. Nothing had been so exhilarating and so right. The birth hadn’t gone as she had planned, but right now all that matter is that Pierre is safe. 

Jean-Luc encircles his arms around her back, smiling warmly. “Thank you, my love. I’ve never been so happy.”

“Neither have I,” concludes Beverly, melting into his chest again.

Kissing her crown, Jean-Luc exhales in contentment. “I love you.” 

Beverly turns and tenderly kisses his lips. “We love you, Papa.” Grinning, she draws back. “Now, Papa’s been waiting very patiently to meet Pierre.” Lightly chuckling, Beverly shifts the newborn into Jean-Luc’s arms.

Mentally stealing himself, Jean-Luc beams, unable to fully comprehend that after all this time, he’s finally holding his son. Despite his best effort, tears sting the backs of his eyes and a hard lump forms in his throat as he nestles the infant between his arms. 

Grinning, Beverly adjusts the baby in his Jean-Luc’s arms and rearranges the blue swaddling blanket. “Looks like Papa and Pierre are quite cozy.”

Opening his lips, Jean-Luc’s voice shakes as he attempts with a half-smile to respond.

Laying her hand across the side of his face, Beverly pecks his lips, causing his defences to crumble and initiating the waterfall. Short, hot tears stream down his face, and Beverly swipes at them with her thumb.

“Beverly…”stutters Jean-Luc, squeezing his eyes shut, attempting to shut off the water works.

“I know,” Beverly assures him, kissing his jaw. “Relax. Just enjoy this.”

Jean-Luc takes Pierre’s tiny hand between his index finger and thumb. “He’s amazing, Beverly. You’re amazing. Thank you.”

Exhaling in contentment, Beverly lays a hand on Pierre’s head. “Thank you, my love.”

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16

 

Fini! Well, I’ve really run a course with this one. Thanks to all who have stuck through with it. It was a blast, but it’s time to call it quits. Hope you enjoyed! 

 

Palming his face, Jean-Luc strides through the door to his cabin, discovering his wife on the sofa, changing his three month-old son.

“Hey,” Beverly greets enthusiastically, fastening a fresh diaper to Pierre’s bottom as Picard crosses the room to them. “You’re timing is impeccable.”

Curious, Picard appraises his wife’s long tank top and leotard. “Were you in the gym?”

Beverly retrieves a tiny pair of black trousers to pull on top of her infant’s tiny legs. “I’m taking Felisa to the holodeck for dance lessons.”

Watching his wife secure small black socks on Pierre’s feet, Picard pauses at the end of the sofa. “What will you do with Pierre?”

“What will you do with Pierre?” Beverly corrects him, flashing her husband a playful smirk.

“Me?” Picard’s lips quirk upward. “No, no. I’m on duty. I’m just taking a break to get something to eat. I can’t take Pierre.”

“You will take Pierre,” Beverly insists, pulling a tiny red replica Starfleet uniform over the infant’s head. “I’m taking Felisa dancing.”

“Beverly,” retorts Picard, resting his hands on his hips. “I have Bridge duty. I can’t take Pierre.”

“Well, I have a date with Felisa in a dance studio,” argues Beverly, scooping the baby into her arms. 

“That can wait,” concludes Picard, fixing Beverly with a pointed stare.

“No, it can’t,” asserts Beverly, rising to her feet. “Last night Felisa had to ask me three times to help her with her spelling words for school. Three times! Pierre was so fussy and needy I hardly had a moment for Felisa. When I was finally reading Felisa a bedtime story, she asked if I could send Pierre back to where he came from, because she had decided that she didn’t like little brothers all that much.”

Raising a brow, Jean-Luc reflects on this story, considering the impact of Felisa’s words. “Felisa’s not very keen on her baby brother?”

Grimacing, Beverly steps to Jean-Luc, locking their gazes. “It takes time for her to adjust to our new family. And, sometimes Pierre needs extra attention that interferes with our time with Felisa.”

Inhaling sharply, Jean-Luc nods his understanding. “What can we do for her?”

“I can take her dancing,” smiles Beverly warmly.

Understanding, Jean-Luc bobs his head. “Yes.”

Beverly shifts the baby into Jean-Luc’s arms. “I just fed him. He’ll be good for three or four hours. He’s got a dry diaper. He should just fall asleep and be no trouble for you.”

Pursing his lips, Jean-Luc adjusts his son in his arms. “Beverly, I can’t bring Pierre on the Bridge with me. It’s entirely inappropriate.”

“No, it’s not,” retorts Beverly teasingly. “He’s in a standard uniform.” Giggling, Beverly toys with the tiny collar at Pierre’s neck, the miniature uniform on the baby being identical to his father’s, right down to the pips. 

“Beverly,” groans Picard, bouncing the infant as the boy begins to whine as Beverly fusses with the uniform.

“Just give me an hour or two with Felisa. Go on,” urges Beverly, bending down to retrieve the diaper bag off of the coffee table. “You’ll be fine.”

With a deep exhalation, Picard fixes Beverly with a pathetic, helpless pout. “Beverly…”

Slinging the diaper bag onto Jean-Luc’s shoulder, Beverly pecks his cheek. “Thank you, dear. Pierre, you be a good boy for Papa. Have fun commanding the ship with Papa.” Beverly pats the boy’s head and skips off toward the cabin entrance. 

Turning around to watch Beverly disappear through the corridor with a small backpack in her hands, Picard smiles to himself. “Pierre, mark my word. As hard as I try, your mother will win every single time.”

Gazing up at him with wide hazel eyes, Pierre merely blows bubbles, gurgling to himself.

Shaking his head, Picard laughs out loud. “Alright, Cadet. Let’s find something for the captain to eat and then return to our post. You and I have an important mission at hand.”

* *


End file.
